The Dawnrunner Chronicles
by Mochafrapp
Summary: Join the Dawnrunners as they navigate their lives through love and loss, friendship and betrayal, sorrow and joy. Also includes fantastic hair!
1. A Meeting of Hair

**Author's Note: Each chapter was originally written as a standalone story depicting a specific time in the lives of one of my characters. A friend and I RP the twin brothers, and his character also makes appearances in some of the chapters. Please, enjoy!**

 **This chapter takes place roughly 300 years prior to _WoW_.**

Melaria crept along the outer wall of the West Sanctum in Eversong Woods, silently watching and following her prey. The elf she was scouting, Thantys Dawnrunner, strode along the road completely oblivious to her presence. That was all to the good, she thought, as he probably would not take too kindly to anyone following him, especially as much as she had over the last few months.

As she enjoyed the view, she let out a small sigh and cursed herself for giving in to her girlish tendencies. What was she even _doing_ , following someone around like this? What did she hope to accomplish? Her cheeks reddened as she thought about what she was doing. Thantys had helped her family out some months ago, they had a malfunction with their arcane guardian and petitioned the magisters in Silvermoon for help. They expected some novice mage barely out of their teens, as it was usually they who were sent out to aid in more mundane tasks.

But no, who showed up at their door but a fully grown male with the most striking and gorgeous hair Melaria had ever seen. Not only definitely _not_ a teenager, but also a fully-inducted member of the highest caste of elven society. He introduced himself and asked to see the broken unit, and she just stood there staring at him! Her cheeks flamed even more as she remembered him gazing back at her for what seemed to be a long while before finally coughing politely and repeating his request. After she finally let him in and he introduced himself to her family, he took one look at the arcane guardian and told them it was a simple fix. Just a minor issue with the matrix core, he said. All he would need was some tools, some time alone, and a space to work. In what seemed like no time at all he had the guardian up and running perfectly. Waving off her parents' profuse gratitude and apologies for wasting his time, he said he was always happy to help put his magic to good and practical use whenever it would be most needed. Before he left, Melaria re-emerged from her hiding place to see him one last time. Spotting her, he smiled and nodded at her before walking out the door.

Something about him struck a chord with Melaria and she never forgot him. Oh, sure he was nice to look at ( _too_ nice, she sometimes thought), but it was not only that. Most magisters she knew would never deign to help a lowly citizen like he did, especially not when they had a kingdom to administer. From listening to her neighbors and other Farstriders, it turned out that he actually helped out with such simple tasks quite often, and always seemed cheerful and content doing "grunt" work. Such kindness was rare among the magi, and Melaria was determined to figure out everything about Thantys Dawnrunner.

Jerking herself back to the present, Melaria steeled herself for the inevitable confrontation and coached herself into playing it out like it was a chance encounter. She lightly jumped off the wall into the soft grass, hardly making a sound. Keeping a brisk pace, she cantered up the road behind the mage and called out, "Magister Dawnrunner?"

The mage stopped and turned around. His eyes widened in surprise and he replied, "Yes? And who are you?"

* * *

Thantys inwardly cursed himself for a fool. Here he was standing before the most beautiful elf he had ever laid eyes on and he answered her greeting with a question. Yes, he definitely remembered Melaria Ravensong. He helped her family with the arcane guardian unit, and could not stop staring at her when she answered the door. It was all he could do to speak his own name and ask to enter the dwelling, so engrossed was he in her beauty. She had stared at him, too, but likely in response to his own awkwardness. He remembered that at a century old he was definitely _not_ a pubescent teenager and finally managed to ask again. He was glad she left him alone during the time he worked on the unit, or else he would not have been able to concentrate on the task at hand.

Present-day Melaria looked down at her feet and said quietly, "Melaria Ravensong, Magister."

"Of course, I remember you, Melaria! Please, call me Thantys. What can I do for you? How is that arcane guardian?" he said.

She blushed. "The guardian is fine, thank you, Magi – um, Thantys. I just saw you on the road going the same way as me and I thought I'd say hello."

He stared at her. Of course, that made perfect sense; why would she want anything more to do with him now that he went his own way? He supposed he'd been thinking about her far too much of late, even going so far as to ask about her to anyone he thought might know her. In his inquiries, he found out that she was an up-and-coming Farstrider, one of the best at field scouting. He even heard she managed to get valuable intelligence about the Amani trolls not too long ago, all by herself, without getting caught once. He thought that was remarkable and longed to know more, but refrained from asking too much lest someone suspect the truth: that he was hopelessly smitten with the young elf.

* * *

Melaria seemed to shrink under Thantys' gaze. That elf sure did have a penetrating stare, she thought grimly. Did he think she was just a silly girl? Of course he must, especially since she could not control her face and had to blush at him…again. She was even willing to bet that he only said he remembered her just to be polite.

At long last, he finally spoke. "I see." He said slowly. "Well then, hello!"

"Hello!" she blurted. _By the Sunwell!_ She thought, _This is just a man, NOT an Amani reconnaissance mission, just talk to him already!_ "What brings you here? Another malfunctioning matrix core?" There, that ought to do it. Nice and bland, nothing to give herself away.

Thantys visibly relaxed. "Not this time. A mishap with one of the translocator orbs in the sanctum over there." He said as he gestured to where he just came from. "And you? What are you doing out here? I was unaware of any Farstrider presence in this area."

She froze. _Seven hells! He's on to me…oh well, nothing for it now._ "Well, to be completely honest with you, I…I followed you here from Silvermoon, then waited for you to finish up here, then gathered the courage to meet up with you. And now here we are."

Shock instantly showed on his handsome face, then he grinned. That grin turned into the most melodious laugh she'd ever heard. "And now here we are," he agreed, "Tell me, Melaria, why DID you feel the need to follow me without saying anything?"

"Because it would be colossally stupid to follow you _while_ telling you about it!" she snapped, more out of embarrassment than out of annoyance at him. Why was he laughing at her?

His laughter continued and became infectious. Soon she joined in, if no other reason than to keep her composure. "That is true," he admitted. He softened his tone and his gaze. "The question still stands though: why are you following me?"

Her cheeks reddened almost to the color of dark fire, darker than her red-gold hair for certain. "I was…drawn to you from the moment I opened the door that day. I felt I needed to get to know you but I was too nervous to ask you directly. You know, being a magister and all that! So I asked other people and found out more about you, and you piqued my interest enough that I had to get up the courage to meet you again. And…and now here we are." She finished lamely. She covered her face with her hands, wishing she could just disappear and teleport out of here on the spot. Here she would stay until he went away or until she died of hunger, whichever came first. Anything but facing him directly again.

She felt a gentle pair of hands take her own and pull them away from her face. Hesitantly she looked up. Thantys no longer laughed as he gazed down at her, his expression unreadable through her haze of confusion.

"I, too, have a confession to make, Melaria, since you boldly opened up to what I am certain was a difficult thing to tell me." His voice dropped to a low register, barely above a whisper. "When you opened the door I saw the most breathtaking woman, I stared so long I wondered what you must have thought of me! After I left, I asked around and found out your name, what you did for a living, and some of your more recent exploits. You managed to captivate me without having spoken a single word to me, and I felt as though we needed to see each other again. Alas, I would have sought you out myself had I not thought it inappropriate, since, again, you'd not spoken to me. And now here we are." His brow furrowed as he waited for Melaria to take in what he just said.

She stared up at him in disbelief. HE felt the same way about HER as _she_ felt about _him_! Never would she have even dreamed of catching the attention of one such as him, and now she frantically worked her brain for her next move. Her brain refused to cooperate with her while he was holding her hands. She wrenched her hands away, and hurried to speak before he took offense and left.

"You…you thought I was pretty?" she asked timidly. _Alright, that was definitely NOT what I had in mind, but better than nothing, I suppose._

He nodded fervently. "Pretty, gorgeous, beautiful, any adjective you like, it all fits. But much more than that, I want to get to know more about the elf who single-handedly snuck through troll territory unscathed!" His cheeks started to redden a little as he continued, "I…was heading back into the city to get something to eat. Would you care to join me?"

"I – yes! Thank you, Thantys, I would be honored." Yes, there, good. Smooth!

Thantys held out his arm, and Melaria took it, her nervousness melting away at his touch. They walked that way down the road and through the city, talking and laughing the whole way and not caring who might see them together.

* * *

That one meeting turned into several throughout the week, and then turned into seeing each other whenever they had a free moment from their respective duties. After five years, Thantys asked for Melaria's hand in marriage, which she eagerly accepted with no hint of blushing whatsoever. "And now here we are" became their motto at their wedding, and beyond.


	2. Twin Shenanigans

**A/N: Takes place an indeterminate about of time between Chapter 1 and _WoW_. **

It was a bright, sunny day in Dalaran. Thantys Dawnrunner sat under a tree, eating an apple while engrossed in a book on _Arcane Guardians of Azeroth: Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Matrix Core_. He missed his wife, Melaria, tremendously while she was away on a mission for the Farstriders. Although she was one of the best scouts the order had ever seen, it did not prevent him from worrying for her whenever she had to leave. When this happened, Thantys typically doubled his efforts into whatever he needed to do, out of sheer necessity.

On this day, he needed to read up on the newer techniques of the arcane guardian units the newly-inducted gnome mages came up with. While they were excellent mages and engineers, it meant he inevitably needed to do more research to keep up with their latest and greatest alterations. Though Thantys was certainly no slouch when it came to academics, magical research was more properly the realm of his twin brother, Nixillis.

He sighed, waved his hand negligently and disintegrated the finished apple core, then stood up. His back ached from sitting there all afternoon and he wanted nothing more than to return to his rooms to rest before he had to work on another task. As he started back towards his quarters, however, he heard a small, polite cough from behind him.

"Nixillis Dawnrunner?" A smooth, cultured voice called out. Thantys knew that voice: Prince Kael'Thas Sunstrider, fairly new to Dalaran, but a high-profile presence nonetheless. He inwardly bristled at being mistaken for his twin yet again, though he supposed the fact that he was seen in public with a book may have given the mistaken impression to anyone who did not know them well enough. He turned to regard the prince.

"Ah, Nixillis, I am glad to have found you!" Kael'Thas said, smiling. "I have something I wanted to show you and get your opinion on, but I'm afraid I cannot bring it out here. Can you meet me in the vaults in one hour?"

Not wishing to bother correcting him, Thantys nodded in acquiescence and bowed.

"Wonderful! See you soon." The prince turned and stalked away.

He sighed again, now having yet another thing to do: track down his brother to pass on the message. Luckily, Nixillis was fairly predictable of late, only appearing in a few places. Still more luckily, he happened to be in the first place Thantys looked, the practice courts. Thantys smirked. Yes, his brother was absolutely, positively predictable since he met that battle mage, Elendraa. He had certainly wasted little time before he practically begged the female elf to teach him how to use a sword, despite having zero interest in physical combat previously.

Thantys watched his brother get pummeled as Elendraa shouted insults at him, presumably to goad him into renewing the attack. Finally, as the sparring match wound down, he decided to make his presence known.

"Hey, Nix!" he called, "Get over here!"

Nixillis and Elendraa promptly ceased the match and went over to see what he wanted. He noted with interest how Elendraa looked at his brother when she knew he wasn't watching. Thantys smiled knowingly.

"Nix, get cleaned up, Kael'Thas wants to see you in the vaults in forty-five minutes."

Nixillis groaned. "Do I have to go? I'm battered, cut, and bruised all over, all because of this banshee over here!" he nudged Elendraa good-naturedly as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Yes, Nix, you do have to go…he is our prince and technically above us in rank even here! He thought I was you, actually. I didn't bother to correct him, but he is still expecting you." His brother was normally quicker on the uptake; this woman must have done a number on him. Ordinarily that would be most amusing, but not just this moment.

"Well, if he thought you were me, why don't you go in my stead?"

Thantys scowled. "Don't be a dolt, brother, of course I can't go instead of you. I couldn't possibly feign enough interest in whatever useless artifact he wants to show off. He'd suspect something for sure."

"You could try, you know…you owe me!" Nixillis declared triumphantly.

"How do you figure that?"

Nixillis flashed him a wicked grin while Elendraa watched the exchange with amusement. "I seem to recall a time not three years back when a certain _someone_ just HAD to take extra time to say goodbye to his wife before she left on a mission…and said someone needed his brother to cover for him for an hour."

Thantys' scowl deepened. He was right, curse him. Melaria had been assigned to a particularly long mission that time. He sighed yet again. " _Fine_. I'll do this one thing for you, but we are even after this, brother."

Nixillis nodded. "Absolutely, Than, completely even! I trust you to act enough like me to fool someone who doesn't even know us very well. Thank you!"

"Well, I guess I better head down to the vaults. Talk to you later, Nix. Lady Elendraa, a pleasure, as always." He nodded at her and headed away.

As he meandered through the city and headed down into the passageway leading to the vaults, he mentally prepared himself on the task ahead. Pretending to be Nixillis was not as easy as one may think; while they looked nearly identical with their defined cheekbones and lush blonde hair, their personalities and interests were as different as the sun and the moon. He always enjoyed being hands-on with his magic, helping others throughout Quel'Thalas (and later Dalaran) with whatever magical assistance he could offer. He smiled, thinking about how he met Melaria doing exactly one such service. Nixillis, on the other hand, reveled in honing his magical craft by researching and learning new ways to manipulate the forces of magic, especially fire. He also liked teaching his skills to others, often teaching classes in fire magic. While Thantys did not terribly mind teaching others what he knew, it was not where his heart truly lay.

He approached the vaults sooner than he would have liked. _Oh well, best to get this over with now,_ he thought. He muttered the counter-spells to the wards guarding the entrance and walked in.

He started sharply as a voice cut in to his thoughts. "Nixillis, good to see you again, and even early!" Kael'Thas said.

Thantys forced a grin onto his face. "Absolutely, your Highness. I would never miss out on anything you had to show me!"

"Call me Kael, please! We are equals here."

"Very well, then…Kael. What is it you wanted to show me?"

Kael'Thas gestured to one of the corners of the stacks. "Here. It was just brought here from Karazhan: another of Medivh's spellbooks, this one about the theories and principles of everlasting fire!"

Thantys' eyes widened at the sight of the weighty tome. It was leather-bound, with ancient runes dotting the cover and spine. Its pages were gilded and he could practically smell the strong incantations guarding its secrets. Interested despite himself, he examined the runes. Yes, this was definitely something to show the real Nixillis.

"I just wanted to get an expert's opinion on this, Nixillis," he continued. "You're the resident fire mage around here, or so I am told."

"Yes…" Thantys replied absently, still examining the tome. He ran his fingers along the edges of the spine, knowing that the extensive warding would protect the book from actually being opened.

"So...do you think you can unlock the book?" Kael'Thas asked hopefully.

"Perhaps." Thantys could not resist the temptation to mess with his brother. "I would need to gather some of my own books and come back here later tonight. It might take all night, but I vow to do my best to see what I can do!"

"Wonderful!" Kael'Thas smiled as he clapped Thantys on the shoulder. "I will meet you back here in…let's say four hours? Would that be enough time for you to get what you need?"

"Oh yes, Kael. More than enough time!"

* * *

"You told him WHAT?!" Nixillis exclaimed when Thantys told him of what transpired down in the vaults.

"I told him I, meaning _you_ , would do my best to see what I could do to unlock Medivh's book, even if it took all night." Thantys explained patiently, savoring every moment.

Nixillis threw up his hands in defeat. "Alright, fine, I guess I better go keep my word…"

"Why, Nix, I would have thought you'd enjoy this puzzle…"

Nixillis glared at his twin. "Yes, but that is _not_ how I planned my night to go."

"What, you had plans with Elendraa?"

"I refuse to dignify that with an answer, Than. Of _course_ I didn't have plans with Elendraa so late at night."

Thantys smirked, not bothering to point out that Nixillis did, in fact, dignify his comment with an answer. "Speaking of which, you really should move things along with her. This platonic friendship business is driving me crazy, and you're not fooling anyone, least of all your own brother!"

Nixillis suddenly became invested in staring at his bookshelf. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Than."

Thantys stared incredulously at him. Could he be so blind? "Don't you? Then it's not my place to interfere, but it's easy to see she only has eyes for you."

"Yes, well, we shall see." He perked up. "I agreed to start teaching her fire spells sometime soon, so if she can still tolerate me after some one-on-one sessions, then maybe there's hope! Now go away, I have to spend the night with Kael'Thas."

* * *

The charade continued back and forth for another week. Both Nixillis and Thantys would alternate spending time with the prince, who all the while thought he was dealing with the same brother. The twins' zeal to out-annoy the other ended when the complex arcane magic surrounding Medivh's book finally ceased to exist, allowing anyone access to its contents.

"We finally appeared before him together and confessed the truth." Thantys explained to Melaria at dinner the night she returned from her scouting trip. "I have never seen him so infuriated! But eventually he saw the humor in it and we all had a good laugh."

"But, I don't understand… _why_ would you keep pretending to be Nix after settling the debt you owed him?" she asked, confused.

Thantys shrugged. "To mess with him, I suppose. It's a twin peculiarity, Mel, you should just take my word for it!"

Melaria rolled her eyes. "And here I thought I married a fully-grown elf with a prestigious position among the magisters of Silvermoon _and_ the Kirin Tor."

Thantys laughed and took her hand. "We mages know how to have a little bit of fun, too, my love." He lightly brushed his lips on the back of her hand.

Meanwhile, elsewhere in Dalaran, a pair of elves stood among the pools near the Violet Hold, ready for another session in fire spellcasting.


	3. Beyond the Sun

**A/N: Takes place during the Scourge Invasion of _Warcraft III_.**

Chaos erupted all around Dalaran as hordes of undead ravaged buildings and ran unchecked through the streets. Thantys Dawnrunner stood at the top of the stairs in front of the Violet Citadel surveying the state of things. _Where did they all come from?_ He wondered. _The rumors of the plague of Lordaeron were obviously true…where was our warning?_ He dismissed such thoughts the instant they appeared; they were not helping. Right now the only issue at hand was the safety of Dalaran and her citizens.

Still atop his vantage point, Thantys muttered an incantation and pointed to a particularly narrow area of one of the streets. A column of fire burst forth and scorched the cobblestones in a twenty-foot radius, almost enough to cover the entire width of the street. After the column dissipated, an ever-burning patch of fire remained to keep the undead at bay. He repeated the spell over and over again, directing it at different points, effectively preventing the majority of the shambling corpses from reaching the Citadel. Other magi were down below assisting to quickly dispatch any that made it past his flamestrikes.

After two hours of this, sweat started to drip down his brow and his concentration began to ebb. He could not keep this up forever; something had to give, eventually. But the undead kept coming, they were seemingly endless.

"M-Magister Dawnrunner?" he heard a timid voice ask.

Thantys whirled around to glare at whoever dared interrupt him now, at this crucial hour. "What?!" he snapped.

The human male apprentice mage, barely in his adolescence, shrank back. Thantys would ordinarily have felt chagrined at snapping at the poor boy, but now was not the time for it. He sighed. "Yes, boy, what message do you bring? Quickly, we have a battle to fight!" He turned back around and continued to cast flamestrikes.

"Orders from Archmage Antonidas, sir." The boy held open a map. "He requires all archmages to open portals to this area in Kalimdor. Jaina Proudmoore is leading everyone to safety, and that's where she's taking us."

Thantys cast one more flamestrike and knelt down on the ground, spreading the map open. He skimmed over most of it, focusing on a single point in the central eastern coast of the continent, the point marked with a red X. He fixed the point on the map in his mind and stood up. He rolled up the map and handed it back to the boy with a nod. "Very well. I will begin at once."

Fatigued, he struggled to maintain his focus in the ensuing chaos surrounding him. Concentrating furiously on the marked spot in Kalimdor, he spoke the incantation to cast a portal. Under normal circumstances, Thantys would not have needed such concentration nor would have been required to speak the incantation aloud. Now, however, not only did he not know exactly where the portal would come out, he was under extreme duress. Unfortunately, he realized, a portal of this magnitude and unfamiliarity needed to be manually maintained in order for it to keep stable.

"Boy! What is your name?" he rasped, his strength rapidly diminishing with the effort it took to keep the portal open.

"Isenn, sir."

"Apprentice Isenn, go tell the other magi, as many as you can find, to take my portal…time is of the essence!"

Isenn nodded and hurried off. Thantys waited.

He did not have to wait long. He spied Isenn and dozens of other Dalaran citizens following him, Isenn pointing at Thantys and his portal. He realized the undead were hot on their heels and, unaided, would quickly overtake the fleeing masses.

He summoned up the energy to cast one last flamestrike, larger in diameter than any of the others he cast today. Thirty feet this time, more than wide enough to cover the whole intersection between the citizens and the attackers.

"Hurry! I cannot maintain this much longer…quickly!" he shouted.

One by one, scared, panicked people vanished through the portal. At long last, only himself and Isenn remained. The boy hesitated. "Sir? Aren't you coming?"

"Yes, go…" Thantys whispered, all effort was put forth in maintaining the portal for a few more seconds. The boy still stood there, paralyzed with shock. "GO!" he managed to bark, eyes wild, his ability to speak gone.

The boy went through. Thantys immediately let go of the portal and leapt through, hoping he was quick enough. He felt several pairs of hands grab his clothing as he left. The darkness overtook him.

* * *

Melaria Dawnrunner hid in the trees of Eversong Woods, watching in horror as an undead army marched through her beloved homeland, creating a scar of deadened earth in its wake. Even if they survived the day, she realized, her life as she knew it would be irrevocably changed. Jerking herself out of her horrified trance, she silently leaped down from the tree and made her way back to where her company of Farstriders was encamped.

They looked up expectantly at their commander, waiting for her report. "The army has breached the southern gate of Eversong Woods and is heading north at great haste." She stated, fighting to keep her voice steady despite her fear.

Gasps and anxious chatter greeted the news she bore. Finally, Melaria had had enough. "Enough of this!" she said, pitching her voice to be heard above the chatter. "Yes, we're all afraid for our loved ones and our homes, but it is time to put that fear aside and FIGHT! Now then, let's work out a plan of attack…Sunspear, map, please."

Her second in command handed her a map of the area. She knelt down and spread the map on the ground. "The army is moving this way," she gestured from south to north. "They appear to be in one singular column, but I saw a gap in their ranks towards the back. What say, you, Sunspear? Shall we cut them off at the tail? We can leave the front half to Windrunner and her company; we needn't have all the fun today."

Sunspear nodded. "Absolutely, commander! A sound plan! Shall I prepare the company to move out?"

"Yes," Melaria said, "We move in ten minutes. I'll leave you to the details."

He saluted and went off to follow her orders. Melaria returned to her tent and gathered her gear. She spied a small handheld mirror glinting from her bag. A gift from her husband, Thantys, shortly after they were wed. It was really a communication device, he had said, designed to let them speak to one another across great distances while they were separated by duty. He in Dalaran, she in Quel'Thalas. He himself carried its mate. _Oh, Than, my love…are you safe? Are the glittering walls of the city enough to protect you from these monstrosities? Do you even know about what's happening here?_ She thought desperately. A thought occurred to her, and she attempted to activate the mirror. Nothing. She sighed. There must be some sort of magical interference. Yes, that must be it! The alternative was far worse: that Than's mirror was broken beyond repair, meaning he was unable to keep it safe. Which would then mean _he_ was not safe, which meant… _Stop it, Mel, you have a job to do!_ _Worrying about him will accomplish nothing, and you'll surely see him later._

She reluctantly pushed thoughts of her husband aside and concentrated on the task at hand. A few minutes later she emerged, ready to go, bow in hand, short swords at her hips.

Wordlessly the Farstrider company wove through the woods unseen and unheard, Melaria in the lead. All too soon, they saw the tail end of the massive undead army. Their commander was right; there _was_ a gap in the ranks they could exploit to separate that section from the rest of the marching horde.

Melaria held up a closed fist, signaling the company to halt at the top of a small ridge. "We will make our stand here." She told Sunspear. "Go inform the squad leaders to ready their archers to target the last phalanx of undead and fire at will starting at my command."

He nodded and rushed off, quietly relaying her orders to the rest of the company. When the archers were at the ready, she gave the hand signal for "Knock arrows", then waited. As soon as the undead army was in the most opportune position, she gave the order. "FIRE AT WILL! FOR QUEL'THALAS!" she yelled, then readied her own bow.

As the first few rows of shambling corpses fell to the ground, the section turned towards the elves and began to charge towards them. Masses of undead came at them, from ghouls to gheists to skeletons, and even a few abominations towards the back. Row after row continued to fall to the ground under the expert shots of the archers, but it was not enough; they kept coming. Suddenly they were much too close even for the archers, who threw down their bows and proceeded to fight with whatever melee weapons they possessed.

Melaria likewise tossed her bow aside and drew her dual short swords, and brandished them at the nearest enemy. Swiftly she dodged attack after attack and cut down enemy after enemy. She made quick work of the mindless ghouls and gheists in the ranks. Soon there came a short lull in the battle, and she found respite behind a tree. She surveyed the site and choked back cries of horror and sorrow as she saw nearly three quarters of her company lying dead on the ground. Worse still was the undeniable fact that what remained of the undead army still outnumbered them five to one.

She knelt down and cried. Once her tears were spent, she took out the enchanted mirror and kissed it, then placed it on the ground where she stood. _Than, I love you so much…thank you for the centuries of love, laughter, and devotion you gave me. Know that I will always love you and I will see you again beyond the sun._

With a surge of clarity she stood up slowly, then turned and faced the oncoming horde. She ran towards them, meeting them with a single-minded fury. Two she cut down, then three, then five, then twenty, and finally she heard a large creature lumbering up from behind her. Bruised, bloody, and battered, she looked around, panting, and saw a…thing…that looked like dozens of corpses sewn together. Filled with determination, she faced the abomination. The creature lashed out with one of its arms and whipped out a large hook, which impaled her through her stomach and jerked her towards it. Melaria was too wounded to put up a fight, but she held her head high to meet her ultimate fate. As she waited for the axe in one of its other hands to cut her down, her last thought was of the day she met her husband. Then the darkness came.

* * *

What seemed like simultaneously a short while later and yet an eternity, Melaria watched as her lifeless body was dumped unceremoniously into the nearest meat wagon. Only a spirit tethered to the mortal realm by foul necromantic magic, she could do nothing but watch; she could not interact with anything nor could she yet speak. All she could hear was the cruel laughter in her mind. _Soon,_ it promised, _Soon you will fulfill a greater purpose…_

She could not even cry.

* * *

Thantys emerged from the other side of the portal with stowaways in tow, in the form of three ghouls latching on to his robes, tearing at them. Drawing on the last ounce of his energy, he rapidly cast a pyroblast spell, a larger version of the typical fireball. It was enough to blast all three creatures off of him, along with portions of his clothing. Too exhausted to care, he plopped down on the ground with a gasp of pain and, closing his eyes, attempted to recover his strength.

"Um, Magister…?" piped up a timid voice. Thantys opened his eyes to see the human boy standing before him. What was his name? Right, Isenn.

"Yes?" he said, looking up at him.

"Sir, I thought you might need this…I, I conjured it just now." He held out a waterskin. "I also wanted to say, thank you, and that I've never seen so many fire spells cast at once! How did you do it? Can you teach me? Is it – "

Thantys held up a shaking hand, cutting off the rest of the boy's rambling. He managed a thin smile. "Thank you, Isenn, this is much appreciated." He took the water gratefully and downed it in a single gulp. He instantly felt some strength returning, but not nearly enough. "Have they taught you to conjure food, by any chance?"

Isenn blushed. "Yes, sir, but I can only make burnt bread. I've been practicing…"

Thantys nodded knowingly. "No matter, I can whip something up…" he murmured an incantation and produced a loaf of elven bread. Not his best work, but it would suffice for the time being. He broke off half of the loaf and handed it to Isenn. "Here, sit down and eat this."

"Thank you, Magister!"

They ate in silence. Thantys looked around to get his bearings and take inventory of his possessions. Or at least, the lack thereof. He blanched when he realized he had absolutely nothing but the tattered robes he was currently wearing. Nothing except…what's this? He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small handheld mirror. His wife held its mate. _Melaria, my love…_ he thought frantically. He had been too distracted to dwell on her up until now, but at the moment thoughts of her returned in full force. Her beautiful face, her smile, her laugh, her quick wit, anything and everything rushed into his mind, nearly overwhelming him as he pondered the fact that he was an entire continent away from her. He attempted to activate the mirror. Nothing. Perhaps it was only magical interference or the great distance separating them…the alternative was far too horrible to contemplate just now.

He wrenched his thoughts away from Melaria and focused on the rest of his immediate family: his twin brother and his brother's wife. Both were in Dalaran during the invasion, as far as he knew, but he lost track of their whereabouts. Were they able to make it through any of the numerous portals to this place? Where _was_ this place, anyway? His gaze swept the surrounding area and he saw only mud, muck, and swamp. His mouth settled into a grim line. So this was to be his new home for the foreseeable future. He would have to make the best of it.

"Apprentice Isenn?" he asked politely.

Isenn gulped down the last bite of his bread. "Yes, sir?"

"Do me a favor, if you would…?" the boy nodded. Thantys continued, "Ask around, find me the _other_ Magister Dawnrunner, my brother Nixillis. He will look nearly identical to me, you can't miss him. Also see if you can find his wife, Elendraa Dawnrunner. She is one of the battle mages…she wields two pink blades enchanted with frost spells. Understand?"

The boy nodded again and hurried off. As he waited, the enormity of the day came crashing down, hard. He held his head in his hands and moaned.

Isenn returned an hour later. "I'm sorry sir, but I can't find anyone who looks like you or carries pink swords. No one I asked knew anything either."

Thantys frowned. "Thank you, Apprentice. I appreciate you checking around for me. You may feel free to wander about and help others in greater need than I am."

Were they not here? If not, where were they? He waited a few more minutes until he was sure he could stand and walk unaided. Thantys did not doubt the boy's competence and willingness to do as he had asked, but in this he must try to find them himself anyway. He wandered through the area, pushing past the throngs of other citizens also looking for their loved ones. He checked the makeshift infirmary, no sign of either of them. The place they were holding the children, mages conjuring food for them to eat, nothing there either. He meandered through the temporary camps filled with conjured tents, asking around. No one seemed to have any knowledge of where they might have gone. He even briefly checked in with the Kirin Tor leadership, no help there either. Thantys rubbed his temples in frustration, wracking his brain for anything, anything else he might have overlooked. Unable to think of anything, he was forced to conclude that his twin and sister-in-law were not on Kalimdor. For the first time in his long life, he felt completely alone.

The next few months were a busy time; Thantys aided in the construction of the city of Theramore. He knew he could have returned to Silvermoon City whenever he wished, but he stayed, mostly out of a sense of loyalty to the Kirin Tor and solidarity with the rest of the citizens who had fled from their homes and who had nothing. His duties served as a distraction from his grief as well. To further in that distraction, he took young Isenn under his wing as his own apprentice. The boy was appreciative and astute, eager to learn anything and everything his master taught him. He hoped against hope that any of his family would suddenly materialize in Theramore, safe and sound, but of course that did not happen. With no word from anyone, Thantys alternated between unwavering hope that they had survived, and unrelenting despair that he would never see them again. He took minor solace in the fact that he was far from the only person suffering the same emotional distress; many citizens had loved ones who were not in Dalaran at all and had no idea where they were or if they had survived the onslaught. Once he was satisfied that Theramore was up and running, he decided to return to Quel'Thalas to finally learn the truth. He invited his apprentice to come with him, at least for a time, and he accepted, eager for a new adventure.

* * *

Back in Silvermoon City, Thantys frowned as he read through a list of known dead in the Scourge invasion. So far, he was pleased at Nixillis' and Elendraa's names absent from that list, but as they had been in Dalaran at the time, that did not mean much. His parents were also not on the list, which was also excellent news. As he reached to the end of the list, he realized that all of the listed names were non-military. Confused for a moment, he looked around, and then saw another, longer, list. Yes, this must be the names of Farstriders who perished in the battle. An overwhelming feeling of dread settled over him as he started to read down the list of unfortunate names. At long last he reached his wife's company. His eyes widened as he read down…so many names, so many lost! Heart beating rapidly in his chest, he finally read the last name on the list: "Melaria Dawnrunner". Silently, he crumpled the list in his hands and wept. He threw it aside and slid down the wall on to the ground, not caring who was watching.

He somehow made his way back to his chambers despite his eyes blurred with tears. Isenn, who had been waiting patiently for him to return, took one look at him and offered to wander around and acquaint himself with the city, anything to leave his master alone for a while. Without waiting for an answer, he hurried off. Thantys vaguely registered his absence but did not care. Unable to keep his pent-up grief in check any longer, he let his emotions out in a tempest of destructive spells. Fire, frost, arcane, anything he could think of, he let fly in a torrent of incantations and gestures. An hour later, he curled up amidst the chaos, exhausted and utterly spent.

Thantys was still in that state when Isenn returned from his wanderings. Isenn took in the state of the room, or what was left of it, with wide eyes. _So his wife must have died in the battle,_ he thought, _She seemed nice the couple times I saw her around, and what Master Dawnrunner said about her._ Unable to think of anything he might say to console him, he set about restoring order to the room using the handy practical spells his master had taught him.

* * *

A week later, Thantys ventured alone down what was now called the Dead Scar. He reached the point where his wife fought her final battle and surveyed the site. Total destruction littered the landscape. He could see flung weapons, both elven and otherwise, half-buried in the dirt. A few rotting remnants of the Scourge shambled around in the distance, but he ignored them for the moment, his gaze centered on a tree. There, what was that thing glinting in the sunlight? He walked around and gasped at what he found. A small handheld mirror placed delicately on the blades of grass. He gingerly picked it up. _She deliberately put it this way so it could be found…she KNEW she was about to die and she did this last thing for me. She knew I'd find it. Melaria, my love, may you find peace wherever you are, and I will meet you beyond the Sun._


	4. Loved Ones

**A/N: Takes place during _Wrath of the Lich King_.**

Elendraa Dawnrunner strode north through the snows of Dragonblight, oblivious to the bitter cold. What little wildlife there was quickly scattered at the sight, and smell, of the death knight's passage. She smiled grimly at the thought of it. _Even the carrion crows fear to descend on me_ , she thought ruefully, _I don't blame them at all._ That did not matter though, her sole focus was on her mission.

Though she no longer felt fatigue or hunger, she decided to take shelter against a rocky outcropping that jutted out from under the snow. There, Elendraa was able to protect herself from the biting winds as she removed her weapons and her armor. She regarded her armor dispassionately as she worked at cleaning it and removing all traces of dirt, grime, and who knows what else had taken up residence throughout the day. The plated armor was mostly dark blue and deep maroon, with some black pieces. Never anything she would have chosen for herself in life, it was given to her in death. It served her well enough now, especially as she cared nothing for what was fashionable or pretty anymore.

Upon cleaning her armor to her satisfaction, she unsheathed her dual swords. Unlike the armor, these were once her pride and joy, and although she could no longer feel either of those things, she remained thankful that the Lich King's agents allowed her to keep them. The swords were identical, clear tempered steel tinged with pink, delicately curved and jagged in certain spots to perform with the utmost efficiency. They had an almost ethereal quality about them. Elendraa smiled, her expression not quite happiness, but something approaching its facsimile. She had designed these blades herself, and supplied both the design and the enchantments to the Quel'dorei blacksmith in Dalaran so many years ago. They were true works of art, and the only things she cared about anymore. _Well, not the_ only _thing…oh, Nix…_ she thought, with a hint of sorrow.

It seemed as though while she could no longer feel positive emotions, the negative feelings were all too real to her, all too raw. As she cleaned her twin blades, a powerful memory stirred in her mind.

 _Standing on the top of Acherus, Elendraa choked out what would have been a sob as she plunged one of her blades into her stomach cavity. Nothing. She felt completely unchanged, save for the dark necromantic magics healing her wounds shut. This was about the fourth or fifth suicide attempt she had made in the weeks since regaining her own will, if one could even call it suicide. Maybe she just needed to get away from this place, maybe the necromancy would cease to be a problem if she just went far away…_

" _I thought I'd find you up here."_

 _The sudden voice jerked Elendraa out of her dark thoughts as she turned to look at the speaker. "Melaria?!" she gasped. "Can it be…?"_

 _The other Blood Elf death knight walked forward, for it was indeed Melaria, her sister-in-law, and knelt down on the ground. "Yes, Ele, it's me. I share in your fate."_

 _Elendraa sat down on the cold, hard rooftop of the necropolis. "Mel, what am I supposed to do now? Do you know of a way to end our existence? I've tried, as you can see…"_

 _Melaria pursed her lips and shook her head, her light blue hair blowing in the harsh winds. "No, sister, I cannot think of a way to leave this world. I remember when I was certain death was the end of it all." She let out a barking laugh. "I do know what we can do though."_

" _What's that?" Elendraa asked._

" _We can look for loved ones." Melaria said softly._

 _Eldendraa started. "Loved ones? You mean my parents…and Nix? Do you think he would still be my loved one after all the horrible things we've done? Not to mention we hardly look like ourselves anymore…"_

 _Melaria shrugged. "Only one way to find out, isn't there? We don't even know if they survived, although I'm quite certain neither Than nor Nix is among our number here. I know General Windrunner would be of some help, we could try going to her first."_

" _Isn't she in the Undercity? I wouldn't want to go there, even if the inhabitants are…dead. I prefer to begin my search alone. But where would I even start? It's been years since we last saw them, Mel, how can we possibly hope to – "_

" _For the Light's sake, Ele, just go to Dalaran if you can't think of anywhere else to go!" Melaria snapped._

 _Dalaran. That single word brought a spark of hope to her very being. Her husband and his twin brother lived in Dalaran, as she once did. If they survived, surely they would still be there, doing what they've always done. She would start immediately._

And so she did, the present-day Elendraa remembered. She had departed the next day, slightly disappointed that her sister refused to join her, pleading some unfinished business elsewhere. She had made her way down through the Plaguelands into Tirisfal Glades, where she found a zeppelin who would take her to the city of Orgrimmar. In Orgrimmar she had encountered her fair share of disgust and resentment at her mere presence, and the vile words and refuse the citizens of the Horde hurled at her were nearly enough to shake her resolve. Hours later she boarded another zeppelin to the frozen land of Northrend, in the place they called the Howling Fjord. And from there she walked.

She finished cleaning her weapons and sighed. She was not looking forward to once again entering civilization, especially her former home for centuries. Even with its new location, she was fairly certain of it being exactly the same as it used to be, although with other denizens of Azeroth in residence. Maybe there would be fellow death knights there as well. She hoped. But mostly she hoped to see her beloved once again, or at least to know that he was alive.

For days on end she repeated the process of walking, cleaning her gear, and reminiscing over both good and bad times. As she grew closer to her destination and the snow melted away into crystallized forest, her life with Nixillis began to take up prominence in her memories.

 _Nixillis and Elendraa stood near the pools surrounding the Violet Hold. He patiently repeated the incantation of the fire spell he was teaching her, and effortlessly cast a fireball into the pool, where it splashed and evaporated instantly. "Now you try again," he said with a smile, "And this time don't let the first appearance of a flame startle you so much."_

 _Elendraa blew a chunk of her long hair out of her face and scowled at him. "That's easy for YOU to say, but I seem to recall a certain_ someone _who nearly cried at the sight of his own blood during a basic sparring match!"_

 _Nixillis chuckled. "Well played, my lady," he admitted. "It is true I was not so accustomed to physical combat as I am now, with your excellent teaching skills." He bowed to her. "Now, try the fire spell again."_

 _Mollified yet still slightly frustrated, Elendraa whispered the incantation and attempted to cast the "fireball" spell. Suddenly a flare appeared in her hands, but leapt out of control. All she felt was her head burning. Without thinking, she jumped into the nearest pool. When she emerged, she took inventory of the damage. Well, nothing WAS damaged, which was good, except…she felt her hair. Her hair was unevenly shorn from the flame. Her formerly long, flowing, golden tresses were now seared off into oblivion, leaving her with what little she had down to her jawline._

Well, _she thought,_ there goes my one beautiful thing about me. _She sighed and then suddenly remembered the other elf in the area. Nixillis stood there with a bucket in his hands ready to throw water on her. He set it down and regarded her with an unreadable expression. She blushed furiously under his steady gaze. She had long since had a feeling of them growing closer, more than friends, but she still felt terribly self-conscious in his presence._

 _Nixillis stepped closer to her, close enough to lightly brush her hair with his fingertips. Much too close for her comfort, but she was rooted to the spot. His lips pulled up into a small smile._

" _I like your hair short. It really suits you." He murmured, almost too inaudibly for her to hear._

" _Really?" she asked, still on edge from the fireball mishap and the fact that she was still soaking wet._

 _He nodded. "Really. In fact, I wouldn't be terribly disappointed if you kept it that way."_

 _Emboldened by his words, she reached out and gently tugged on his long, luscious blonde hair. "Are you just saying that to keep all the good hair to yourself?" she teased._

 _He caught her hand and held it, laughing. "Maybe!" he admitted. "Than and I need to keep at the top, you know."_

 _That earned a hearty laugh from her. After the laughter subsided, she realized he was still holding her hand. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked him in the eye. Slowly she closed the distance between the two of them and pressed her lips on his._

Dazed by the intensity of that particular memory, she shook her head to clear it. Yes, reminiscing is nice, but she had work to do, even if it did involve her husband and former fire spell tutor. She looked around to get her bearings and realized she was near to the Violet Stand, where she could take the portal into Dalaran.

Elendraa approached the guardian of the portal and requested entrance into the city. The guard stared at her for a long while before letting her pass. She stepped into the swirling depths and rematerialized in the central courtyard. She almost felt nausea at the powerful memories that assaulted her, then remembered she had no working organs with which to feel that way, and pushed those feelings aside.

 _Where would he most likely be at this hour?_ She wondered, drawing on her memory of the layout. She turned south, and walked a ways in that direction. With a pang of sorrow, she realized this was the way to the Violet Hold, where she and her friend, then lover, then husband met by the nearby pools many times over the years. Quickening her pace, she headed south, then turned east, then finally looked to the north. There, a contingent of Horde of all races! That looked promising.

She approached one of the guards cautiously. As he turned to regard her, she noticed he was a Blood Elf and wearing a strange red tabard with unfamiliar heraldry.

"What business have you with the Sunreavers, death knight?" he demanded.

She stiffened. So there have been other members of her "order" present in the city; good to note. She drew herself up to her full height and said, "I am looking for someone, a mage. A fellow elf by the name of Nixillis Dawnrunner. He is…important to me."

"Dawnrunner, you say? I do know of one, wait here." He walked a few paces into the enclave and called out, "Oy, Dawnrunner! You have a visitor!"

The elf in question stood near a row of portals to various cities, he appeared to be fine-tuning the portal to Silvermoon City. All she could see was the back of his robes and his striking blonde hair, bound in a high ponytail. Anxiety coursed through her like fire. Could that be Nix? As the elf turned around to respond to the guard's call, she noticed with a stab of fear that it was _not_ her husband, but his twin, Thantys.

Elendraa's inner being ran the gamut of emotions: fear to excitement to joy to hope to anxiety to terror. Nixillis she was certain would never turn her away and look at her in disgust, but she had no idea how his brother would react. While she did bond with him in life over the use of frost spells, they were never the best of friends, although always cordial and friendly. That was in life though. Thantys was as different from his brother as night was from day. She could no longer trust the familial bonds that once tethered them together. She fled behind the nearest pillar.

Thantys walked over to the guard. "Yes, Sunblade? I am a little busy at the moment." He gestured towards where he stood a moment ago. "Those portals won't maintain themselves. Where is this visitor?"

The guard nodded. "Understood, my lord, she's right – " He noticed her absence and pointed to where Elendraa had been standing. "Well, she _was_ right over there!"

Thantys looked to where the guard was pointing and strode over to the spot she had been standing in. He looked around, and, seeing nothing, turned back to the guard. "Well, it appears her errand was not quite so important. Let me know if she returns?"

"Of course, my lord."

"Good." He nodded, then looked around once more. "Is it just me, or is it unnaturally cold right here?" Thantys shrugged and nonchalantly cast a small fireball spell and held it in his hand while he returned to his previous task.

Elendraa pressed herself back against the pillar and groaned. The guard said he only knew of _one_ Dawnrunner, and that had obviously not been her husband. Where was Nixillis? If not here in Dalaran, where they had shared so many adventures and memories, then where? Was he even alive? She sighed yet again and trudged back to the portal to Crystalsong Forest. She would find him, she vowed, even if it took a lifetime.


	5. The Purge

**A/N: Takes place during _Mists of Pandaria_.**

Thantys Dawnrunner, at present, was in a sorry state. He sat on the cold, hard, cement of one of the Violet Hold's prison cells. He had been incarcerated there for two days already with no sign of release anytime soon. The only object in his cell was a bucket, for who only knows what purpose, since he had been given no food since he was teleported in here. His cell was about five feet by five feet, although that was an approximation given its arch-like structure. There were no bars, instead the only thing preventing him from escaping was a shimmering purple arcane field that hurt his hand badly when touched. Oh yes, that and the fact that the cell was enchanted so he could not cast any spells. In fact, the cell's enchantments deprived him of his magic abilities altogether. This loss felt to him like losing a limb or one of his senses; utterly unbearable at first, but he was slowly beginning to grow used to the feeling. Thantys felt a variety of emotions, but mostly helplessness, loneliness, and confusion.

With nothing better to do, he pondered the turn of events that brought him here. He knew that tension had escalated of late between Alliance and Horde magi in Dalaran, reflecting the same tension in the rest of Azeroth. He also knew it had something to do with what was going on in the continent of Pandaria, with precious powerful artifacts at stake. Currently though, the prime tension seemed to emanate from their new leader, Jaina Proudmoore. She had been feeling incredibly anti-Horde since assuming leadership of the Kirin Tor, but had thus far resolved to keep the peace, however tenuous that may be. Understandable, really; Thantys had been devastated to learn of the tragedy that befell the city of Theramore, and wondered what sort of people could possibly condone such a vile act. He could certainly understand why anyone would blame the whole group for the actions of a few, although he himself always tried to stay as neutral as possible in any of the factional conflicts.

With this last thought, his introspective reflections turned swiftly to uncharacteristic rage. How dare they imprison him! He, who had dedicated centuries of loyal and unwavering service to the Kirin Tor of Dalaran. He, who had saved dozens of magi during the Scourge invasion. He, who had stayed behind in an unknown land serving none other than _Jaina Proudmoore_ to build Theramore, when he had desperately needed to discover the fates of his family members in Quel'Thalas. Never had he lifted a finger to threaten any members of the Alliance races, not once in all his long years, and this was how he was repaid? He let out a gut-wrenching yell, and poured all of his anger and frustrations into it. Similar yells answered him in kind from all around the room; the other Horde magi prisoners answering his call.

As quickly as the rage came, so too did it leave, to be replaced by unrelenting despair. He had lost everything in the Scourge invasion: his twin brother, his sister-in-law, and most dearly, his own wife. He had found some solace in the apprentice he took shortly thereafter, and through the intervening years he had rebuilt a semblance of a normal life, although he remained a shell of the elf he used to be. It seemed that fate decided to be unkind just as he thought his life was regaining momentum. He leaned back against the wall, his head hitting the cold, hard, stones, as he rubbed his face and groaned.

An hour later, the door to the Violet Hold opened and he heard footsteps heading in his direction. He felt a surge of hope when he discovered it was none other than his apprentice, a human boy – no, man now – named Isenn. Isenn hurried towards him with a plate of recently-conjured food and water.

"Master," he said, "I made this for you and I just wanted to see how you were doing."

Thantys swore he could have kissed his apprentice just then, had it not been for the arcane barrier between them. "Thank you!" he exclaimed. "But, I'm surprised they even allowed you in here, let alone bearing gifts."

Isenn looked sheepish yet triumphant. "Well, sir, the guard on duty is a female human who's only been stationed here for a few weeks. I happen to know she has a crush on you and blushes every time you pass her by, and I _think_ she can't stop looking at your hair…I just told her I was here to see you and that you'd be very, very, grateful to her if she let me by."

Thantys stared at him with a shocked expression, then let out a hearty laugh. He had no idea what a "crush" meant, exactly, but he thought he understood the basics. He'd deal with his whiplash of changing emotions later, though. "It is true, you were definitely not lying. I am so glad to see you, Isenn. Now, can you teleport that food into here?" Isenn complied. "Thank you! Please, while I eat, can you conjure enough for the rest of the prisoners? They are likely as innocent as I am, and none of us has had anything to eat or drink since we got here."

Isenn nodded and went off to do as he asked. Thantys ate the food gratefully; right now, meat and potatoes were the best-tasting dishes he had ever eaten, despite being human food. Also, he thought ruefully, a far cry from the burnt bread his apprentice was capable of conjuring when they first met during the Scourge invasion eight years ago. He had wasted no time in teaching him the basics of food conjuring, and after a few days of practice, Isenn could successfully conjure unburnt food. Now that he had eaten, his outlook on life turned from bleak to mildly pleasant. Yes, he was still angry and upset, but at the same time exceedingly pleased to see Isenn, with whom he had shared a bond that was more akin to friendship than the typical master/apprentice relationship.

His apprentice returned. "All done, sir." He looked at Thantys with pity. "I'm sorry this happened to you…how are you faring?"

Thantys closed his eyes briefly. Opening them again, he said, "Isenn, you have seen me through the worst times in my life. You can drop the 'sir' and call me Thantys, or even Than!"

"I know you've said that a few times, sir, but I just can't do it!"

He sighed. "Fine. To answer your question, physically I am fine now that you have brought me food. It did wonders for my well-being. But I am very much troubled at the fact that we seem to have been forgotten; no one has come to visit us and we have heard nothing! Are we to languish here indefinitely, until we starve to death? What have you heard?"

Isenn's face took on a somber expression. "It's been a bloodbath, sir. Those who comply are being teleported here, but the others…others who put up a fight…"

Thantys closed his eyes again as he remembered the events of two days ago.

 _He and Isenn had been spending time in his workshop; he was putting the finishing touches on an object he tinkered with, and Isenn was working on an arcane cube puzzle. The conversation flowed easily and naturally by now, and his apprentice chattered on about anything and everything: the human female he liked, the latest letter update from his family back in Stormwind, the spells he was having difficulty with, and more. Thantys had patiently responded to what he had been saying. He dispensed brotherly advice about women (he had been married for 300 years, after all, so he must know_ something _), he made polite inquiries on his family's well-being even though Isenn had letters from them every week, and finally he promised to work more with him later on those particular spells. Soon the conversation came to a natural stopping point and they both worked in companionable silence._

 _Suddenly the two of them heard shouting outside, and as Thantys stood up to go and investigate, the workshop door was blasted to smithereens from the outside. Automatically he cast an ice shield around the two of them to protect them from the debris. Three Silver Covenant guards rushed into the room, blades drawn, and surrounded the pair._

 _"Thantys Dawnrunner, you are under arrest for conspiracy and treason against the Alliance and the Kirin Tor." The lead guard boomed._

 _Thantys' eyes flashed dangerously. "On whose orders? I have done nothing wrong!" he said, his voice deceptively calm. Isenn looked terrified._

 _"Archmage Jaina Proudmoore's orders. All Horde are to be held in the Violet Hold until further notice. Resistance will be met with lethal force." The guard replied._

 _He glanced around the room without moving his head, calculating quickly. He knew he had the power to obliterate all three guards at once, but anything he cast would kill his apprentice. There was nothing for it – he would have to incapacitate the guards individually and hope Isenn could either help him or get out of the way in time without getting hurt. He began to move his hands to cast a spell._

 _The guard, perhaps sensing what he was about to do, nodded at one of the other guards. That one immediately moved behind Isenn and held a sword to his throat. "Make one more move and he dies." The guard threatened._

 _Thantys looked at Isenn, who looked back at him. "Don't do it, sir! You didn't do anything, you don't deserve this!" he pleaded._

 _"I must. I can't lose you, too." Thantys sighed. "Very well. I surrender. Do what you need to do."_

 _The guard nodded and his comrade withdrew the blade. The third guard uttered an incantation and transported Thantys to his cell._

He jerked out of his reverie when he realized Isenn was still talking.

"…and I just wanted to say thank you for not letting them gut me, sir. I wish I had quick reflexes so I could have helped. I just know we could have beaten them!"

He let out a soft laugh. "Oh, if only that were true. If we had defeated the three guards in the room, we still would have had to escape the city unscathed."

"Oh, right…" Isenn trailed off for a moment. Then he set a determined look on his face. "Sir, give me time. I will go see Archmage Proudmoore and ask her to release you, I know you didn't do anything wrong and I know she'll see reason if we just explain it to her. But if she doesn't, I can go all the way to King Varian Wrynn himself and appeal to his mercy. She'll definitely listen to him! Or…or I could go petition the Regent-Lord for an audience…"

Thantys gazed at his apprentice and marveled how it seemed only yesterday he was a scrap of a boy, and now he had grown into an intelligent and caring man. "Isenn…" he began, then stopped. He was about to say that was not necessary to go to such lengths on his behalf, but he saw Isenn's jaw set, and knew it was pointless to say anything otherwise.

"Isenn," he started again, "I thank you for caring for me enough to want to do that. And I wouldn't tell you no, not with the situation this dire. All I ask is that you wait a few more days. Wait for this to die down and the dust to settle. Perhaps things will solve themselves. I wouldn't want you to cause any diplomatic incidents on my account."

His apprentice frowned but unclenched his jaw. "I understand." He said quietly.

"Good." He sighed again. "If and when this is resolved I…will have to leave Dalaran, at least for the foreseeable future."

"Sir, no! You can't! What about my spellwork? I haven't finished. Also…" he looked down. "You've been the only adult who really cared about me outside of my family."

"I have no desire to leave either, but I cannot stay where my very existence is called into question. I must return to Quel'Thalas, with my people. And…and I am afraid you could not come with me this time, not with the distrust of the Sin'dorei and the other races. I'm sorry." Thantys was determined not to shed any tears, but it was quickly becoming more difficult to stop them from coming. "You have been an excellent student, Isenn. To be honest, you have become more than a student; I consider you a friend, even though we have only known one another a short time. I have nothing more to teach you…you already know the basics, you just have to keep practicing. After this I probably have no more authority as an Archmage of the Kirin Tor, but when I am released I can at least do this one thing for you: I will send a message to the powers that be to grant you the rank of mage."

Isenn stoically fought back tears of his own. "Thank you, sir…that means more to me than, than pretty much anything!"

"You deserve nothing less."

* * *

The next day, a group of Horde agents broke into the Violet Hold and released the imprisoned magi, teleported them all to the Sunfury Spire in Silvermoon City. As Thantys stumbled out of the portal and looked around, he realized that, for the second time in a decade, he had been forcibly relocated without any of his belongings. He sighed and trudged back to his chambers in the magister's area of the city. He thanked the Sunwell he at least had a home in which to return.

A week later, he returned from his tasks for the day to find several packages sitting atop a familiar packing trunk. He laughed when he recognized them as his own from Dalaran. Looking around, he spied a note from Isenn.

 _Magister Dawnrunner,_

 _I figured you would want your things back, and I knew you didn't have time to gather them before you left, so I got everything together for you. It actually was harder than I thought it would be. I had to find someone willing to pass along messages to and from Silvermoon City, and it wasn't cheap, but it was worth it. Thank you for all you've taught me and I will surely keep practicing the things I've learned from you!_

 _I've decided to return to Stormwind. Now that I'm a full mage (thank you for that, by the way!) I can go wherever I want, and I know I don't want to stay in Dalaran where they did those horrible things to you. I hope you find peace and I hope we can meet again someday._

 _Mage Isenn Farley_

Thantys smiled as he read the letter. He, too, hoped to see Isenn again under better circumstances. Maybe he would finally be able to call him by his first name. Only time would tell.


	6. Transcending Factions

**A/N: Takes place during _Warlords of Draenor_.**

Thantys Dawnrunner surveyed the cliff-like hills in the distance and wondered how he was expecting to scale them to find whatever lay hidden in them. _I'll cross the bridge when it comes, but I need to get started_ , he thought as he pushed open the gates of Hammerfall in Arathi Highlands and started towards the hills in the northeast corner of the basin. The Magisters of Silvermoon, specifically Grand Magister Rommath, had sent him here in order to recover a magical artifact. This particular artifact was just lying about for anyone to find; the catch, they warned, was that the Alliance likely knew about it as well and might also send an agent of their own to reclaim it. He hoped that would not happen, for that agent's sake: he was not feeling overly charitable towards the Alliance just then.

It was slow going as he cut a meandering path through the grasslands before his destination. The plains were teeming with wildlife, most of it dangerous in the form of raptors, giant spiders, and various birds of prey. While Thantys could and would defend himself if he must, he would not deliberately move into their path and cause them to view him as a threat. Thus he was forced to take a more zigzag pattern to avoid confrontations, which lengthened his journey considerably. It did not help matters that it was a particularly windy day and the hood of his cloak kept being pushed back away from his head, putting his striking, long blonde hair on full display to anyone who may have been watching his progress. Eventually he just gave up trying to keep the hood on, he hated it anyway.

He smiled ruefully as he thought of what his wife, Melaria, would have said if she could see him now. _You need to hide your hair while you're in hostile territory, Than. It makes you visible from a mile away and a prime target!_ In fact, she _did_ say as much when they were both sent to investigate magical disturbances deep in Amani troll territory all those long years ago. She had teased him mercilessly about it at the time, though strangely, all teasing ceased the moment he threatened to cut his hair off to eliminate the danger. Right now though, even she would have realized the futility of it all, since the wildlife could probably sense him regardless. Right now, he was immensely proud of himself for having a fond memory of Melaria without the slightest misstep. It had been nearly ten years since he lost her, and he had only fairly recently accomplished that feat.

At long last, he reached the beginnings of the hillside just as dusk was approaching. He unrolled his map and studied it briefly before stowing it away. There was a path about a mile ahead that would lead up into the hills, and then a clearing about another mile into that path. That clearing would be the perfect spot to strike camp for the night. He considered stopping where he was, but decided against it, as he did not want to risk being eaten by a raptor while he slept.

Quickly he made his way to the path and followed it upwards. Just as he thought he should soon reach the clearing, he stopped and slowed his movements. Ever so cautiously, he crept along the path, his magical senses abuzz. There was something emanating arcane energy up ahead. Keeping on high alert, he pressed forward, making almost no sound. Again, he thought of Melaria and how she would be pleased with him utilizing the survival skills she taught him. Finally he neared the clearing, but he was still unable to see it properly, as the path wound upward. Using his arcane acuity to visually sense the magic, he discovered the source of the energy he sensed earlier: an arcane trap, designed to instantly alert the caster to the presence of an intruder.

He frowned slightly. It would take a great deal of control over his own magical abilities to disarm the trap without the caster noticing, but he could do it. While he could cast powerful displays of frost and fire magic easily enough, his greatest accomplishments centered around the degree of control he learned to exert over the magic flowing through him. Oftentimes it was easier to let it loose, but it would just as readily damage whatever project he happened to be working on. No, over the centuries he honed his ability to carefully emit channels of frost, fire, or arcane spells in any amount he desired, sometimes in imperceptible amounts.

As he worked to disarm the trap, he noticed something odd about the magic surrounding it. It felt… _familiar_ …as if he had encountered the spellcaster in the past. Every mage had his or her own unique signature, and a powerful enough mage could discern who cast which spells, or at least the amount of casters present. This particular signature felt familiar yet different, as if he had once known it but it had evolved. His eyes widened. _No…it can't be! Can it?_ He thought as he continued his work. He would find out soon enough, as he had just managed to remove the threat of discovery.

Silently he crept up the path, crouched as low as possible. When he could finally see into the clearing, he nearly gasped out loud. There, sitting plain as day by a conjured fire, was his former apprentice, Isenn Farley. Isenn had formally ended his eight-year apprenticeship under him nearly two years ago when circumstances forced them to part ways in Dalaran. Thantys had returned to Quel'thalas, Isenn to his native Stormwind. His last act as a member of the Kirin Tor had been to write to the head of the scholarly wing of the Violet Citadel and petition them to recognize Isenn's accomplishments to grant him the rank of full mage. Thantys examined Isenn from his vantage point. Yes, that certainly was him; he looked nearly exactly the same as he did the last time they saw one another. Same dark brown hair, same expression of intense concentration, almost the same slender build. He appeared to have finally grown out of that awkward gangly teenager phase that human males apparently had and settled into the slender, yet slightly-muscled build of a man. As he took in the sight of his former apprentice he spotted something glinting off his left hand: was that a wedding ring? It was. Thantys smiled to himself. As if that removed all doubt, Isenn was definitely no longer the skinny, scared, and shell-shocked boy he befriended all those years ago.

Thantys shook his head. There was nothing for it, he could not stay hidden here indefinitely, he would have to announce himself. Silently moving to a standing position and taking a few more steps forward, he calmly said, "Hello, Isenn."

The moment those words escaped his lips, Isenn leapt up and reflexively cast a frost spell aimed straight at him. He quickly put up an ice barrier to absorb the spell and waited. He did not have to wait long.

"Sir…? Thantys?!" Isenn gasped.

"Yes, Mage Isenn. Very nice cast, by the way…I see you have been practicing as I told you." Thantys smiled as he spoke. He removed the ice barrier and moved to embrace his friend.

As they broke away, Isenn said, "Thank you! It is so good to see you again! I've missed you…"

"And I you, my friend."

The pleasantries died away and melted into awkwardness, with both of them standing in front of the fire. Flushing slightly, Isenn gestured towards a spot next to where he had been sitting. "Please, sir, sit with me!"

Thantys accepted the invitation and sat down, sighing as he did so. "Call me Than. We are equals, you know."

Isenn's eyes widened. "As you say…Than." He said with difficulty. "How have you been?"

"I am old, Isenn, so I am much the same as I ever was. I am performing pretty much the same duties in Silvermoon as I had done in Dalaran, which is good for me. You know how I am with drastic life changes…" Isenn nodded. "Now, enough about me, how have _you_ been faring since returning home?"

Thantys smiled with pleasure as Isenn launched into an explanation of all he had been doing in the last two years. After spending some quality time with his parents and younger siblings, he had begun his career as a full-time mage of the kingdom of Stormwind. His aptitude for magical objects had quickly garnered praise and recognition from the higher-ups, including Archmage Ansirem Runeweaver. Thantys felt an intense surge of pride and warmth at this, as he had once hoped Isenn would one day follow in his footsteps as an expert in artificing. It appears as though he had, albeit in a different way. His smile widened considerably as Isenn recounted how he met his wife, Myra. She was a priestess of the Holy Light, skilled in healing magic. He had been sent to her for her services after he scorched himself while attempting to tinker with an object of unknown origin. He told him that, in his delirium, had openly declared her the most beautiful angelic being he had ever seen before lapsing into unconsciousness. From there, he said, friendship and then romance had blossomed into their marriage two months ago. His one regret was that he could not invite his former master to his wedding.

"Do not trouble yourself on that score, Isenn. Know that had circumstances been different, I would have been honored to attend! You cannot know, not yet, of the immense pride I feel right now. I had watched you grow into a fine mage, and a good man, and I am gratified to know you have been able to build your own life during these dark times. Perhaps one day you will take an apprentice, or have children of your own, and then you can experience the same joy."

"Thank you, Than, that means so much to me coming from you! But…" he frowned suddenly. "What are you _doing_ out here?"

Ah, yes, he finally touched upon the one blight upon this otherwise happy reunion. Thantys sighed. "Why do you think I am here, of all places?" There was one last remnant of his old life he could indulge in right now: never giving Isenn an answer when he could puzzle it out for himself. Handy teaching strategy, that was…Isenn had learned to solve all sorts of problems that way. Thantys also did not want to bring himself to come right out and state the obvious truth about their situation, even though it had to be discussed.

His former apprentice tapped his chin in thought, then said, "I guess you must be after that magical artifact in these hills…"

"Correct."

"The Horde sent you?"

"I suppose you could say that, as the Magisters of Quel'thalas are technically part of the Horde…"

"I was sent by the Alliance."

"I gathered that, yes."

"So…what do we do now?" Isenn asked, the truth dawning on him.

"What would you suggest?"

Isenn looked away. "You know, I used to hate when you answered my questions with more questions, but now I see it was to teach me to work things out for myself. This time I truly don't know though."

Thantys gazed at him with a mixture of emotions. Pity, mostly, but also sorrow and resignation. "Well then, I suggest we get some rest and deal with it tomorrow morning. Let me redo your arcane trap and we will talk then."

Isenn nodded. "Alright then, good night!" he said. He lay down on his bedroll and quickly fell asleep.

Thantys turned and rapidly recast the arcane trap, then unfurled his own bedroll and laid down. But sleep did not come for him for quite a while.

The next morning came, and with it a dark cloud over the pair. They cleaned up their camp in silence and removed all traces of their presence before setting out. The two of them continued on the path in single file, Isenn taking the lead, for several more miles. Thantys observed his surroundings. The hills were mostly rocky with a few trees scattered sparsely throughout. He could hear a stream making its own path in the distance off to the east. No sign of wildlife though, which was unusual. He could sense a faint magical aura emanating from somewhere in the hills, although he would have to stop and conduct his work to pinpoint its exact location. The most pressing matter to him, however, was the growing agitation he could sense rolling off of Isenn like waves. Isenn had been increasingly stiff and less fluid in his movements as their trek progressed, and for the past half hour had been drumming his fingers against his thigh, a habit Thantys noted meant imminent trouble for him.

At long last, Isenn stopped. He whirled around, glaring at him. "You're only delaying the inevitable!" he snapped.

"To which inevitable event are you referring?"

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about, Than." He said, raising his voice in a rare fit of temper. "There's only _one_ artifact, and we can't _both_ have it. One of us will be forced to fail our mission!"

Thantys smiled sadly. "You are right, of course. How should we go about deciding who gets it, then?"

Isenn continued to glare at his former master. "No idea. What were your orders?"

Taken aback at this sudden switch of gears, Thantys automatically answered, "My orders were simple: find the artifact and bring it back to Silvermoon City for study."

Isenn fairly exploded with anger. "Archmage Runeweaver told me to capture or kill any Horde agents I found attempting to recover the artifact! _KILL_ , do you understand?!"

Thantys continued his sad smile. "Ansirem has been ever more vocal in his outspoken hatred of the Horde magi, ever since the incident in Theramore. I am not surprised that he would phrase his orders in such a way." His smile widened. "But come now, Isenn, we both know you aren't capable of doing either of those things! I'm sure between the two of us we can come up with a solution."

"Who says I'm not capable? I've learned a thing or two in Stormwind, things you couldn't possibly know. For all you know, I might be able to fry you with a snap of my fingers!" Isenn lashed out angrily.

All good humor vanished from Thantys' countenance. Such human arrogance! Surely, he taught him better. "Listen to me, _boy_ ," he said, his voice dangerously low as he took a menacing step towards his former apprentice. "I have taught you everything you know, but did you think for one moment that I taught you everything _I_ know? For fifteen times your entire lifetime I have studied magic, breached barriers you know nothing about, and learned more about the world than you could possibly imagine. You have only ever seen me at anything close to my full power but once in your short life, and you have not nearly measured up to that level. Do you really think you could kill or capture me simply because you studied for two more paltry years? Hardly. Now be a good _boy_ and rethink your present situation before I do something I will regret later. And of this I am certain: make one move to cast an offensive spell and I _will_ defend myself."

Isenn shrank back and retreated a couple of steps as his former master glowered at him. It seemed that for the first time in their long friendship, Isenn was genuinely afraid of him. Good, let him be afraid. They were on opposing sides for the first time, and it would not do for him to underestimate his opponent. He evaluated the situation. Isenn was raw potential, not yet honed by years of intense study, but ready to hold his own. Thantys was immeasurable power held in check only by a long lifetime of experience. This was not arrogance, this was fact. He was never one to assert his power so forcefully, and he regretted the words he spoke, although not the circumstances. Isenn needed to understand that now Thantys could no longer protect him from the harsh reality: they were supposed to be bitter enemies.

Isenn visibly deflated and crouched down with his head in his hands. "Master, I am so, so sorry…I'm just scared now. What if we can't find a solution? What if I fail? Will my life be over? What if – "

If not for the dire situation and mood whiplash he just experienced, Thantys would have laughed. He was strongly reminded of their first encounter with one another after the Scourge Invasion; the boy he had been had asked far too many questions for him to process at once. He had grown to learn that this is one of his habits when he is nervous or afraid.

Thantys softened his expression and his tone. He knelt down. "Listen to me, Isenn. I accept your apology. You do not know how to come to terms with the fact that we are supposed to hate each other, and you have spent the last two years among people who most assuredly do hate what I represent. But you must come to terms with it, and soon. I would like to continue our friendship if that is what you so desire, or not. If you want to go your own way to find this artifact, then so be it. I will go mine. However, I propose something else: for now, let us work together. We will recover the artifact together and then decide what to do about who succeeds at that point. What say you?"

To his credit, Isenn looked Thantys in the eye and nodded. His jaw was set in a way that signified he had made a decision and would defend it. "I want to be friends, mast – Than. You are right: the other mages in Stormwind hate the Horde for what they've done. I've tried to tell them all about you and how good you've been to me, but they won't hear of it. They claim you were just doing it for a favor or for some other nefarious thing. They just don't know you, but I know they never will. To them every member of the Horde is like Garrosh Hellscream. Nothing I say will convince them otherwise."

Thantys understood. "Yes, when I first took you to Silvermoon City all those years ago, I was told how foolish that was. That you would eventually grow up to be our most hated enemy, and with knowledge of the city's layout no less! They accepted that you were just a boy, for now, and let you stay. But one day, they swore, you would turn on me and all of my kind. And then I would be sorry. Do you think I'll be sorry one day, Isenn?"

"Never. I regret my recent choice of words, I am sorry. I was stressed out by the whole situation and I forgot myself." He certainly looked and sounded contrite.

"All is forgiven, my friend." Thantys stood up. "Now, let's get down to business. The artifact. I only know that it is currently being held by a race of beings known as 'kobolds'. They do not exist where I am from, do you know anything about them?"

Isenn looked up in astonishment, then burst into uncontrollable laughter. When the laughter subsided, he said breathlessly, "They are a semi-intelligent species known to inhabit the human lands. They're about three or four feet tall at the most, they're furry, and more like rats than anything else. Oh, and they also love their candles!"

Thantys raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"They love candles!"

"I am still not following you, I'm afraid…"

Isenn chuckled. "One day when I was very young, before I was sent off to Dalaran, my father took me to Elwynn Forest to recover something he had lost down a mine shaft. That shaft was infested by ill-tempered kobolds. He told me to stay on my guard, and down we went! We never really had much to fear…the kobolds were armed but they left us alone as long as we left them alone. All they ever did was repeatedly say 'You no take candle!' My father said they wear the candles on top of their heads to see down in the dark caves where they live, so they're fiercely protective of them. Honestly, Than, they shouldn't be much of a threat to us as long as we promise to leave their candles alone…"

Thantys listened to Isenn with increasing incredulity and with a sense of foreboding. "Well, candles notwithstanding, I fear that somehow it will not be so easy to walk in and take the artifact. Why do you think they hold it, do you know?"

"Kobolds are hoarders, especially if the object is shiny."

"Hmmm…" he thought for a moment. "I highly doubt they will just give it to us willingly. The magic coming from it might affect them in some way, I do not know. I think I have an idea, but I have no idea if it will work. I am thinking a distraction is in order. Is there any way to gain their trust?"

"I heard that they follow the person holding the biggest candle…doesn't even matter if they're a kobold. They aren't the brightest race on Azeroth…"

"Fantastic. How about this: we conjure the biggest candle and you assume the mantle of leadership. You lead them away, somehow. I will cast my invisibility spell and recover the artifact. We will meet back at the clearing where we spent last night."

"I think that's a great idea! Only…I'm not sure I can act like a kobold leader."

"And why not?"

"Because…well, alright fine, I really don't have a real reason, it just doesn't sound like something I'd be able to do!"

"I believe in you, Isenn."

"Thanks, I think."

Thirty minutes later they were ensconced behind a boulder, looking at the mouth of the cave. Kobolds scurried in and out, all with candles on their heads. The magical pull of the artifact, whatever it was, grew stronger here.

Isenn peered over the top of the boulder. "I feel it, Than. The artifact is definitely inside that cave! Also, it looks like the candles they're wearing are about six inches long, so mine should be at least twice that."

Thantys nodded and muttered an incantation. A minute later he produced a large candle about a foot long and handed it over. "There. Light it when you are ready. You aren't wearing a hat though."

"Somehow I don't think that's necessary. Alright, I'm ready! Wait for me to do my thing, and then you can go in." Isenn drew a deep breath, lit the candle, and leapt out from behind the boulder.

Thantys watched in fascination as his former apprentice ran over to the kobolds brandishing his candle. He yelled something to them, but he was unable to hear what it was over the cacophony of screeching about the "Candle of Bossing Around". Apparently his plan was working! Isenn was, at that moment, the current kobold leader. With a last glance in Thantys' direction, he led the kobolds into the cave, talking in short, stunted, sentences.

Shaking his head in bewilderment at the strange turn the mission had taken, he cast his invisibility spell. It would work as long as he kept up his concentration, and he would be unable to cast anything else without removing the spell. He fervently hoped the artifact would not interfere with the spell. Slowly he made his way into the cave. Isenn had managed to lead most of the kobolds away from the direction of the artifact, although he crossed a few here and there. None of them noticed him though, and for that he was thankful. Eventually he spotted the crowd of kobolds surrounding Isenn, who was gesturing wildly with the candle. Thantys shook his head again and moved off into the opposite direction.

At long last, after a few wrong turns and dead ends, he stumbled upon the artifact. It was, indeed, very shiny and he could see the attraction it must have held to the creatures. The object radiated immense power, and, Thantys realized with a jolt, immense danger. It was an hourglass of pure gold, with sand perpetually falling upwards. Purplish-pink arcane runes surrounding the object in midair warned him not to attempt to touch it with his hands. Not for nothing, though, was he well-known among both the Kirin Tor and the Magisters of Quel'thalas for recovering and dealing with artifacts like this one. He had long ago invented a spell that would surround any object and put it into a sort of stasis until it could be safely stored away. The only problem is that in order to cast it, he would have to remove the invisibility spell.

"ISENN!" he yelled, hoping he would hear and be able to reach him.

Luckily he did not have to wait very long. Isenn came barreling through the hallway and skidded to a stop near the object, with dozens of kobolds in tow.

"Isenn, I need to cast my stasis spell, but I can't do that while invisible. I'm going to need you to make a portal for us to make our escape as soon as I cast the spell. Can you do that?"

"Yes, of course!"

Thantys nodded, even though he was invisible. Steeling himself, he let the invisibility spell wear off and immediately started casting the stasis field. He heard Isenn conjuring a portal, while glancing at the kobolds' reaction. They ignored him, thankfully, focusing only on their new leader. Once the portal was ready, Isenn threw the candle into the throng and leapt through it. Thantys guided the object through the portal and entered it himself.

He landed on a hard wood floor next to a table and chairs. He pushed himself up and, after checking the safety of the artifact, looked around. He appeared to be in someone's home. A human home.

"Isenn, is this _your_ home?"

"Yes, it was the first place I thought of."

"So I am in _Stormwind_?!"

Isenn looked sheepish, more like the boy he once was. "Yes…in the canal district, to be exact."

Thantys sighed yet again. "Well, as long as no one else lives here…"

"Well, Myra does…but it's just the two of us, I swear! And we don't get many visitors!"

He groaned. "Can Myra be trusted to keep my presence here a complete secret?"

Isenn looked affronted. "Of course she can!"

"I meant no offense, but I am in a dangerous position here."

"Oh, right…well, we do have an extra bedroom you can stay in for now. We keep it for…for when the time comes…"

Despite the danger of the situation, Thantys had to grin. "Are congratulations in order, then?"

Isenn flushed. "No, not yet, but someday!"

Just then, the front door opened. Thantys immediately recast the invisibility spell and retreated to a corner. A pretty young woman entered the threshold. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail and she had a light dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose. He could immediately tell this was a woman who loved to laugh and had a good sense of humor, and, as he watched the two of them greet each other, he smiled. He was happy about a great many things at the moment: that he was safe, the object was recovered, and that one of his closest friends had found happiness. As he continued watching the scene, he noted with a roll of his eyes and a smirk that Myra's skin glowed and the priest robes she wore clung tightly to a slightly rounded belly. Leave it to his former apprentice to be blissfully unaware of the most obvious facts right in front of his face. It seemed that the time for that spare bedroom was fast approaching.

At long last Isenn looked over to the corner where Thantys stood and said, "Than, you can show yourself." Thantys complied. "Myra, this is my former master I kept telling you about. Thantys Dawnrunner, this is my wife, Myra Farley."

Myra curtsied as Thantys bowed. "I am so pleased to meet you, Myra." Thantys said. "Thank you for keeping my friend happy!"

Myra blushed and her eyes flicked upwards to his hair. "It's not a problem, really, I am so excited to finally get to meet you! Are you two hungry?"

Dinner that night was simple but filling fare, and Thantys could not remember the last time he enjoyed himself more. They talked, laughed, and Thantys told embarrassing stories about his apprentice while Myra giggled and glanced at his hair every so often. Once dinner was over, Myra went upstairs, leaving the two of them alone.

Thantys grew serious. "Isenn, we need to discuss what to do with the artifact."

"I know. What do you think?"

"Perhaps we could study it ourselves and both come away with a better understanding of what this thing is and what it does. Maybe…maybe we could even duplicate the artifact and both of us will succeed." Thantys said hopefully.

"That sounds good, let's get to it in the morning!"

For the next week, Isenn and Thantys worked around the clock. Thantys was content to stand back and let Isenn do most of the work, while he made observations and suggestions throughout the day. Isenn was a natural, he was happy to note. He still had plenty to learn, but that would come with time and practice. True to his word, no one came to the house and Myra stayed out of their way, appearing only occasionally during break times to bring them food and drinks.

At long last, Isenn pushed away from the table with a groan. "It's no use, Than. This artifact isn't giving up its secrets. We don't even know how to replicate it!"

Thantys frowned. He was right, they had made little headway other than determining that it was likely an object of the bronze dragonflight. As they still had the object and their memories intact, they concluded that it was unlikely to be of great importance to the flight, but nonetheless its identity and uses eluded them.

"I may have a few books in my library in my chambers that could be helpful…" Thantys mused.

Isenn's jaw was set as he looked at Thantys with resignation and determination. "Then it's settled: you'll take the artifact back to Quel'thalas and I will tell Archmage Runeweaver that I failed."

"Don't be ridiculous, I could simply teleport there and back again."

"No." Isenn said firmly. "You've done so much for me, and I've done so little for you. Let me do this one thing for you. You have your reputation to protect, and failure is almost expected of me at this stage. There will be other missions for me to succeed on, don't worry about me!"

Thantys gaped at him. "Are you certain? It is much more important for _you_ to succeed at this early stage than it is for me. Don't put your future on the line for me."

"I'm certain, Than. Please, just do this! You deserve it."

Thantys nodded and embraced Isenn. "Thank you, my friend. Take care of yourself and Myra."

"I will!"

Thantys crafted the portal into his chambers in Silvermoon City, then carefully maneuvered the object through it. Before he himself entered the portal, the turned back to look at Isenn one last time.

"By the way, congratulations!"

Isenn looked bewildered. "For what?"

Thantys just smiled mysteriously and disappeared through the portal.


	7. Death Becomes Her

**Author's Note: This chapter takes place during _Legion_.**

"May you one day find peace, Mel." He said as his kissed her gauntleted hand and bowed his head.

Melaria Dawnrunner nodded, even though her husband had already turned away, and melted back into the shadows. She waited until she was a sufficient distance away, then sat down against a wall and let out a gut-wrenching sob. She was dead, wasn't she? _How is it possible for me to feel this way…?_ She thought miserably.

Melaria had spent almost the entirety of the last decade since her untimely death at the hands of the Scourge trying to track down her husband, Thantys Dawnrunner. Despite her superior tracking skills, a remnant of her life as a Farstrider ranger, he proved quite difficult to locate. It seemed that her once-predictable mate had, in fact, altered his calling from artificer in Dalaran to a strange combination of that plus a bit of archaeologist and treasure hunter, travelling to distant lands to bring magical artifacts back to the Kirin Tor. What was even more astonishing was the fact that he had taken an apprentice, a young human boy. He had never done that in the centuries they had been married, never expressed any interest in doing so, ceding that area of expertise to his twin brother. Why he chose to take one on at the time was anyone's guess. Outside of those two areas, Thantys remained much the same as he ever was.

Once located, she spent the next few years keeping track of him between doing missions of atonement for her past crimes as a death knight, never daring to show herself for fear of his reaction to her. There had been one scare, however, as she stood in Dalaran staring at the back of his head from behind a pillar about fifty feet away. _He really does have the most gorgeous hair_ , she had thought for the hundred thousandth time as she watched him. Without warning he turned around and looked in her direction. She fled the scene immediately, thankfully never revealing her presence. One day, about a week ago, she gathered up the resolve to finally meet him; she just had to wait for the right opportunity.

That opportunity came today, as he had to travel to Undercity on a mission for the Kirin Tor. For whatever reason he had decided not to stay in an inn, rather opting to make camp in a secluded area of the Ruins of Lordaeron. She pondered that strange choice, also so unlike him, as she watched him from the deep, menacing shadows of the ruined courtyard. She steeled herself for the inevitable confrontation, anxiety somehow knotting in her chest. Ever so slowly, she inched forward until she stood at the border between visibility and shadow, and waited. She did not have to wait long.

 _"Who's there?" called a voice, as she felt her feet encased in ice, unable to move away._

To her immense sorrow and disappointment, Thantys reacted…poorly…to her existence. Instead of unbridled joy at his wife's continued presence in the mortal realm, he seemed to feel first surprise, then shock, then resignation with a hint of disgust in his eyes. It utterly broke her to see that last marring his still-handsome countenance. They talked for over an hour. Despite her best efforts, and eventual frustration, she failed to make him see her as anything but a monster who happened to look like his Mel and who happened to possess her memories. Their reunion reached a breaking point the moment he expressed his hope to never see her again. He must have heard the despair in her voice and seen it in her expression, as all traces of earlier disgust left his eyes, to be replaced by a forlorn solidarity. He explained that it was incredibly painful for him to see her this way, and he would have been better off never knowing. He still loved the woman she had been and all of the fond memories they shared, he said, but he could not fathom friendship with a being who reminded him of everything he had lost. Their meeting ended on a wholly unsatisfying note, at least for her.

Could she really disappear from his life entirely? What, then, would be her purpose in undeath? She brooded over the prospect of wandering about with no goals, no reason to continue. Those are the only things giving her life, such as it was, any meaning. She shook her head and let out a bitter laugh at the absurdity of it all. _What am I doing, pining over a man when there are far more important things to worry about? I have my mission, to get revenge on those who made me this way and took away everything! If I can't have Than, I can at least make the Burning Legion pay for what they have done!_ With that barely sustainable thought, she disappeared from the ruins.

* * *

The Felskorn raiders charged at her, yelling obscenities and threats in their own strange tongue. Melaria stood her ground and gave them a cruel smile as she thrust out a hand and let dark magic fly. The ground between her and the raiders instantly withered and decayed, slowing them down dramatically. Bewildered, they looked down before trying in vain to rush at her faster, brandishing their greatswords, their strength dwindling every second they stood in the death and decay. At long last, they reached her and she quickly dispatched them in their weakened state, using her own greatsword to leave lengthy, bloody gashes across their chests. With a grim nod, she turned and sauntered away.

She heard a faint groan coming from one of the raiders. He was still alive! That simply would not do. She immediately rushed back and plunged her blade into his heart, killing him on the spot. She glared at him. What was infinitely worse than the Burning Legion was, in her mind, a living person who willingly allied with the Burning Legion, as the Felskorn Vrykul in Stormheim had done. Couldn't these fools see that allying with the Legion was to spell their own destruction? Did they really think they would be spared from the upcoming annihilation if they won? They deserved whatever they received, and more.

A few minutes later, she heard the pounding of hooves along the road. She stood and smiled, for she recognized the horse. She waited for the rider to approach. "It took you long enough, I almost slaughtered the whole camp waiting for you!" she called.

The rider slowed to a halt and gracefully leapt off the horse and on to the road. Elendraa Dawnrunner, her sister-in-law, stood before her with her blue-black plate armor and twin pink blades. "Sorry Mel, I…spent the night with Nix and lost track of the time." She said, strangely intent on looking at the dead raiders strewn about the side of the road.

Melaria gaped at her. Was she _blushing_? _No that's impossible, death knights_ can't _blush._ _Last night must have gone really well then._ A few weeks ago, only days after her meeting with Thantys, Elendraa had shown up to the cave they temporarily shared excited to share her own news. She had found her former husband, Nixillis, who was also Than's twin. Nixillis had apparently been far more receptive to Elendraa's existence than her own husband was, and Mel had tried her hardest not to let any of her bitterness cast any gloom. One of them had to be happy, or as close to it as they could be in death. She enjoyed the feeling of the sisterhood of sorts they shared, so she would not tarnish it. Elendraa had been outraged when Mel told her of Than's reaction to her, in fact she had been on the verge of finding him herself and threatening him at swordpoint when Mel quickly diffused her temper by revealing a rumor of Nix's whereabouts. That rumor proved to be true, and Elendraa had rushed off between forays into the Broken Isles to be with him ever since.

"No worries, Ele, I'm glad you had a good time." Mel said, genuinely meaning it.

"What do we have here?" Elendraa asked, looking around.

"No more than scum getting what they deserve."

"Oh, are these Felskorn?" Elendraa mused. Her mouth curved into a wicked grin. "Are there more?"

For the next few hours, the two death knights worked in silence, utterly wiping the Felskorn raiders from the map amid a flurry of frost, blood, and plague magic. Both were deadly grace personified, borne of a lifetime of combat training and fighting: Mel a Farstrider, Elendraa a battle mage of the Kirin Tor. Now, in death, they kept their martial prowess yet had new skills added to their arsenal. Elendraa had additional frost abilities to supplement her already prodigious frost magic, while Mel gained the use of significant quantities of disease and unholy magic. She supposed the Lich King granted her the ultimate perversion of everything she once stood for in life; Farstriders protected all life in Quel'thalas, yet in death Mel's very presence was sufficient to drain the living essence from anything she touched with her bare hands.

After the battle they left the carnage behind, oblivious to the rotting stench of the corpses. They stopped near a rocky outcropping by a stream and knelt down to clean their gear before the next incursion. Now that the fog of war had cleared from Mel's mind, her misery returned in full force, exacerbated by the knowledge of her companion's own good feelings.

Elendraa gazed at her as she scrubbed gore from her armor with more vigor than necessary. She gently took one of Mel's hands. "Mel, what's wrong? And don't tell me nothing's wrong, I know you! You'll break that wrist guard if you keep at it like that."

Mel sighed. Was she always so transparent? Apparently so. "To tell you the truth, Ele, seeing you flush after an encounter with your husband makes me jealous. I shouldn't even be able to feel jealousy, but there it is. For weeks I have tried to put Than out of my mind, but I cannot. He does not want me in his life the way I am, but I know him, Ele! I know he is more miserable now without me…he needs me. He needs me, but he won't have me. That breaks me inside."

Elendraa looked at her with an expression not entirely unlike pity. "I talked to Nix about what you told me, Mel. I was – am – incensed Than would speak to you that way and say all those horrible things to you. Nix was shocked, but then he believes Than will come around if he has not already. He says his brother processes things differently and while he was willing to accept me as I am immediately, Than will take longer to do that for you. But he hopes he will. Also…" she smiled knowingly and added, "I have a feeling Than is about to get an earful from him any time now. You know how they are."

Mel _did_ know how the twins were, at least she thought she did. During the centuries she shared with that family, she discovered that both brothers stopped at nothing to annoy one another and, when one did something the other did not like, the former would never cease to hear about it. If what Ele said was true, Than would definitely be having a tough time. As much as she disliked the thought of him going through anything remotely negative, she had to laugh out loud at the idea of the twins talking with each other as they once did many years ago. She could imagine the unbridled joy they must have felt not too long ago in discovering that the other was alive after being separated for over a decade, that they were not alone in the world after the Scourge invasion.

She stopped laughing. "Do you really think Than has changed his mind? I could not bear meeting with him a second time if it's going to be like the first…" she said, her eyes wide. She looked less like a death knight and more like a teenage elf with her first love.

Elendraa's gaze was adamantium. "Of course he's changed his mind. How can he not? But, if he for some reason cannot see sense, I can always…convince him my way. Go, go see him!" Her tone brooked no argument.

Mel nodded. "I will! I must! But I dare not try to talk to him myself. Can you arrange a meeting with him through Nix?"

"Yes, absolutely. Tell me your message and I will make sure Than gets it."

* * *

True to her word, through a series of complicated channels even Mel had trouble following, Elendraa was able to alert Thantys of her desire to meet with him again. She stood alone in the broken, crumbling ruins of her parents' house in what they now called the Ghostlands. After the invasion all those years ago, her parents were forced to flee to Silvermoon City where they now lived. They left everything behind, never daring to brave the Dead Scar to retrieve their belongings. Going through what was left of the dwelling, Mel felt wave after wave of nostalgia and sorrow as she waited for Thantys to arrive. _If he actually does arrive…_ she thought. Her message to him said that she would wait here all day and all night. If he did not show up by dawn, she would leave the area and never attempt to message him again, as that would prove once and for all that he did not want her.

Mel waited, her heightened senses on high alert for any sign of trouble from either the living or the dead. She dared not venture too much farther into Sin'dorei territory for fear of reprisal. Even this remote location was putting her existence at great risk. Yet this place called to her as a beacon, since this was where she and Thantys first met over three centuries ago. Surely he would not have forgotten…

At long last, a portal wove into being in the main living room and an elf emerged, smiling slightly at his surroundings.


	8. A New Beginning

"He's running away! Get him!"

Thantys Dawnrunner cursed as he ran past three angry pirates, who brandished cutlasses as they chased him. He quickly fired off a frost nova, encasing their feet in ice up to their ankles, and teleported 30 feet ahead. The lead pirate, a dwarf with a long red beard, shouted obscenities at him. Without looking back he teleported another 30 feet and ran outside of the cave. Thantys began to cast a portal when he heard a sudden _whoosh_ followed by a slicing sound, and finally three death cries.

Halting the spell, he whirled around to look behind him. There stood a slim, short woman who looked mostly like a Sin'dorei yet not quite totally one. Her light blonde hair hung straight down to her back, framing her face as well. She wore well-travelled black leather armor and carried two enormous warglaives, both amethyst in color. The top half of her armor revealed intricate red tattoos cutting across otherwise smooth white skin. The other striking aspect of her features was the black blindfold she wore, marking her status as a demon hunter.

"Well…looks like you ran into trouble back there. Good thing I was here to rescue you." She remarked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

Thantys glared at her. "You didn't need to kill them, Yve…I was fine on my own!"

Yvonne Crowley laughed. "You would have been three separate pieces of Blood Elf mage if I weren't there." She glanced in his direction with interest. "What are you doing out here in the Wyrmbog, of all places?"

He sighed. Over the several weeks he had known her, he found that arguing with her rarely did any good. "The black dragon Onyxia was rumored to have kept a powerful amulet in her lair." He pulled out an onyx amulet on a fine gold chain. "The rumors were true…yet it seems the Kirin Tor isn't the only one who'd heard them…"

"Obviously." She stowed her glaives behind her back and folded her arms.

"What are you even _doing_ here?" he asked as he cast his arcane stasis field spell around the amulet. He quickly opened up a portal back to his workshop and guided the amulet through it. He turned back to Yve.

She looked down and flushed slightly. "I…I need your help." She mumbled to her feet.

He stared at her. He grinned despite himself. She had never needed his help before; the previous occasions they had met were either coincidence or him asking her to utilize her skills on behalf of the Kirin Tor…for a price. Always for a price.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite catch that…"

She managed to scowl at him despite the blindfold. "You heard me, Than, I see you smiling! I won't say it again."

He laughed as he deactivated the portal. "Alright then, what can I do for you?"

"I took a contract that had me go deep into the Sunken Temple to retrieve an item. I found it, but was ambushed by a swarm of undead trolls and green dragons." She explained.

"That's interesting, but doesn't explain where I come in."

"I was getting to that!" she snapped. "The item is magically sealed to the wall of the chamber. I'm sure it has instructions on how to get it off, but they're in Draconic. I have no idea how to read it…can you?"

"No." he admitted. She looked crestfallen. He hastened to add, "But I have a book on it somewhere…if you can guarantee that I won't be interrupted, I am fairly certain I can translate it for you."

 _Where did_ that _come from?_ He wondered. She'd never given him any reason to help her gain profit, in fact, he detested treasure hunters on principle. Something about her intrigued him. Perhaps it was her resourcefulness, or her fighting skills, both of which reminded him strongly of his late wife, Mel.

She sighed with relief. "Thank you! I do hate turning down a contract, and this one pays a lot." She hesitates. "I'll split it with you. Take it or leave it though, I never go that high…but for you I'll make an exception!"

Thantys shook his head. "No need, you keep it all. Just let me have a chance to study the item before you return it?"

Yve raised an eyebrow. "Done! Wow, you are so easy…I should ask you for help all the time."

He fixed her with a patronizing look. "You know, I could just return to Dalaran and leave you empty-handed…"

She laughed. "So serious! I'm sorry, alright?" She quieted. "That's two exceptions I've made for you in as many minutes. I never apologize! How is it you affect me so, Thantys Dawnrunner?"

"Magic, I suppose."

She shook her head. "No, I think it's the hair!" She reached out and gently tugged on a lock of his long, blonde hair.

He sighed again. She was the second person he had ever allowed to do that. Why he tolerated it, he had no idea.

"Oh, it looks like one of the swords cut you…" She pointed at his chest.

He looked down. "So it did…" He immediately pulled off his shirt and inspected the wound. A six-inch line cut diagonally across. "Thank the Sunwell this is shallow, I didn't even notice it. Thank you!"

She nodded and turned away, flushing deeply. He furrowed his brow at that, then shrugged and went to work cleaning and bandaging the cut. When he finished, he took his shirt and inspected the cut. He pointed at it and muttered an incantation and traced the tear. As his finger moved over the tear, it repaired itself, looking good as new when he was done. He pulled it back on and noticed Yve had wandered away a few feet and was staring out over the bog.

He walked up behind her and put his hand gently on her shoulder. "Hey…ready to get moving?" She started and turned around. He quickly removed his hand. "Never thought I'd get the drop on you. What were you thinking about?"

She shrugged. "Oh, nothing. Yes, I'm ready…let's go!"

He nodded and begun casting a portal. She paled visibly and he stopped. "What? Portals are the quickest way to get where we need to go."

"Spoken like a mage!"

"Guilty…"

Letting out a long, drawn-out sigh, she said, "Alright fine, I hate portals. They make me nauseous!"

Thantys chuckled. "Well, the alternative is you and me travelling together for days or weeks on end to get to the _other_ swamp."

"That…that wouldn't be _so_ bad…" she mumbled to her feet for the second time.

He gazed incredulously at her. Surely he misheard…no way she just openly admitted that spending time with him would not be terrible. She who had wasted little time in mocking him and everything he did from the moment they first met in a cave in Arathi Highlands.

"I mean, if you're _sure_ that's what you want…"

She glared. "Just cast the portal, already!"

He rolled his eyes again. Mood whiplash was Yve's normal way of interacting with him. Good, he was starting to get a little concerned. He quickly cast the portal to Stonard.

He gestured towards it. "After you."

Yve scowled at the portal as it if had done something to offend her, then reached into her bag and pulled out a potion. Giving it a cursory glance, she drank it in one gulp. Probably an anti-nausea potion, Thantys guessed. She disappeared through the portal, and he followed.

* * *

Several hours later, they stood in front of the entrance to the Sunken Temple. Thantys looked around in awe at the ziggurat-shaped structure adorned with writings and decorations from the various troll tribes that had once inhabited this place long ago. Slowly he traced one of the pictographs with his finger. There was something familiar about this one, he was sure of it, although he had never been here before. Low-hanging vines festooned about the antechamber. He tugged on one experimentally and smiled at the vague thought of using them as leverage to climb higher on to the upper platforms of the temple.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Thantys jerked out of his reverie and looked over at Yve, who stood beside him, watching his every movement with amusement etched onto her face.

"I am." He admitted. "I've never had the opportunity to see many troll ruins up close, especially not as large as this one. This is fascinating!"

She laughed. "Typical mage! Always caring more about ruins than about what's inside."

"I'll have you know I care a lot about what could possibly be inside here. Anything is possible, really. The most insignificant finding, the most seemingly mundane object, could potentially spark an idea that helps us fight the Legion, or any other enemy. You just never know."

She turned thoughtful. "I suppose that's true. Is that why you're constantly searching for magical objects?"

"Mostly." He said. "I also like to take things apart to see how they work. It's something I've always been interested in."

She tilted her head, gazing at him with a pensive expression. "Well, we better get moving. The room the object is in is this way." She turned and stalked off down the hallway winding downward to the right.

They walked in silence, both continuously on alert for any sign of activity. The silence was eerie, almost deafening, with only the sound of their footsteps in earshot. At long last they arrived at a vast room with an oculus in the ceiling. An altar sat in the center of the room, surrounded by a shallow moat of tepid water.

Yve motioned for him to stop and wait. She drew her glaives and crept forward into the room. He waited. When she came back, she was frowning.

"No sign of any of the attackers from earlier. No green dragons or undead trolls, nothing! I highly doubt they've vanished…"

"Unlikely." He paused, remembering. "You said you were ambushed, right? Maybe they're just back in their hiding places. I'm sure we'll meet them eventually."

Her frown deepened. "I don't like this at all, but let's do what we came her to do." She ran to eastern wall of the chamber and pointed to a square tile that protruded slightly. The tile was covered with writing that was quite clearly different than its counterparts on the rest of the wall. "Here. I'm fairly certain the object I need is behind this tile. I've tried the usual methods: physical and magical, but I came up empty before I was ambushed. I'll cover you while you translate the writing."

Thantys nodded as he walked forward and inspected the tile. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. Yes, he could sense a faint aura emanating from the tile itself as well as something within. He opened his eyes and furrowed his brow. "There's definitely something in here. It is odd: it's as if the object behind this tile is a…well, a void. I can't sense anything at all in the exact spot it must be, although I can sense the air around it. Must be a dark magical artifact. Why does the contractor want it?"

Yve shrugged indifferently. "No idea, I never ask questions."

"Perhaps you should start. There's no way anything connected to the void could be good for anyone involved."

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't get half the jobs I get now if I started questioning everyone's morals! Look, if you're not going to help me we can leave, all right? I can find someone else." She glared and crossed her arms defiantly.

He sighed. "No, no…let's get this over with. Be patient, this might take a while." He crouched down and drew a rune on the ground with his finger. Muttering an incantation, he gestured and a large, leather-bound tome appeared in the center of the rune. Holding his position, he opened the book and began reading.

After several minutes, Thantys still had not moved or made any visible effort to cast any spells. Huffing, Yve drew her glaives and began to pace throughout the room.

Looking up from the book, he glared at her. "Distracting me isn't helping the writing get translated any faster. Can you be still?"

"I can't help it, this is the boring part…I get restless…"

He rolled his eyes and went back to what he was doing. Hour after hour passed, Thantys only taking short breaks to conjure some food and water, Yve continuing her vigil over the room's entrance. Suddenly, he smiled.

"I've nearly got it. I'll be able to read the whole inscription once I – " A loud bang interrupted his sentence, followed by the sound of several pairs of shuffling footsteps. A minute later, dozens of undead mummified trolls poured through the chamber doorway, groaning and babbling in their tribal tongues.

Yve immediately launched into a complex dance of slashing and parrying with her amethyst blades, darting in and out of melee range, using every ounce of fel magic she possessed to keep the trolls at bay. Thantys watched in rapt fascination at the sheer beauty of her fighting form, until he realized he had been staring at her for five whole minutes. Shaking his head, he returned to work.

Finally, at long last, he had it. Looking up to see how Yve was doing, he grimaced as he took in the sight: piles of bodies lay strewn about the ground, the demon hunter still fighting six trolls at once. He stood up as he closed his book. Dusting his hands off, he cast an ice barrier around himself and a second one around Yve, who did not break stride. Closing his eyes, he held up his hands and cast a blast wave of pure fire, instantly incinerating all six trolls and destroying both ice barriers. He opened his eyes only to see Yve trembling in fury as she seemed to teleport in front of him in a second flat.

"You could have _killed_ me with that spell!" she yelled, jabbing him in the chest with an angry finger.

He glared. "A 'thank you' would suffice."

She laughed angrily. "Why should I thank you? That spell was ridiculously dangerous, and…and…"

"Reckless?" he supplied helpfully.

"Yes!"

Taking a step closer to her and dropping his voice, he said, "Next time I'll let you be slaughtered instead."

"What makes you think there will even _be_ a next time?" she spat out, voice shaking.

He took one more step so he towered over her slight frame and looked down at her. "Because you need me."

She scoffed. "I do _not_ need you…"

Not backing down, and angry despite himself, he replied, "Yes you do. You needed me today and, though you'd be loath to admit it, half the times we've worked together you could not have gotten what you need without my skills."

She continued to glare at him, then looked away and sighed. "I'm sorry, alright? I'm just on edge, the adrenaline is flowing…We…we do work well together…"

"We do." The adrenaline coursing through his veins receded and he stepped back. "I'm able to read the inscription now. Give me a moment." She nodded.

He returned to the wall tile and gazed at it. He frowned. "It says we need a blood sacrifice to open the tile. I suspect we don't need to die for it, just provide some blood."

Yve hesitated. "My blood is…I don't think…my blood won't work." She flushed.

He nodded. "I assumed as much. Here, cut my hand and I'll open it." He held out his left hand.

"I can't do that!" she protested, aghast.

"Who else is there? Just do it! I won't break…"

Glaring once more, she pulled out a dagger from her armor and sliced his palm open. He grimaced but stood firm. Turning around, he ran his hand across the seams of the tile, taking care that every inch was covered in his blood. About three-quarters of the way, he stopped.

He smiled ruefully. "I seem to have run out of blood here. Do it again." He held out his other hand. She sighed and sliced that palm open as well.

Interesting, he thought. "Could it be that you're concerned about my well-being?" he asked, amused at her reactions.

She scowled at him. "Of course not! I just don't want to be responsible for letting you get killed. I don't need the Kirin Tor after me…"

"Right."

Once all areas of the tile's edges were suffused with blood, it emitted a dark glow and fell open with a loud clanging sound. Thantys looked at Yve, eyebrow raised.

Yve nodded toward the hole. "You go first."

He peered into the hole. It was empty save for a small, ruby red crystal the size of his palm. It radiated a kind of dark energy he had only rarely encountered. His eyes widened as he gasped.

"I know what this is for."

Yve shook her head frantically. "Don't tell me, I don't want to know! The less I know, the better my conscience feels."

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"Alright. I propose I open a portal back to Stonard, and we can go from there." He gingerly took the crystal from the hole and handed it to her.

She nodded and quickly drank another one of the potions. He cast the portal and they disappeared through it. They materialized a few yards from the walls of Stonard.

"Well, I suppose we're done here. Can you make it to wherever you need to go on your own?" he asked.

Yve smiled and nodded. "Yes, I can take it from here. And…" Hesitantly, she reached out and touched his arm. "Thank you for helping me."

He covered her hand with his. "You're welcome." He returned her smile. "I'd be happy to help you any time, you know…just ask."

She slipped her hand free and nodded again. Waving goodbye, she glided across the swamp and disappeared from his sight. He stared after her in the direction she just went, and chuckled to himself. If he didn't know any better, he'd almost swear they were friends now.


End file.
